Moonlit
by Jessi Knight
Summary: Dominique Destine has a secret, a life full of tragedy and magic that she's lived for a thousand years. In all that time, she's learned one lesson above all: Don't trust humans, ever. So then, when a human police woman, Elisa Maza, comes to her rescue one night, how is it that she suddenly finds herself ignoring that lesson in the worst way possible, by falling in love? Femslash
1. How Things Work

**Brave... Part 1: How Things Work**

Note: This is an alternate history kind of story. It's got all the same characters, it still happens in Manhattan at around the same time, but past events for the characters are fairly different, and a few other things are too. Elisa's still a detective for instance, and so is Matt Bluestone, but they aren't partners in this story. And Demona's been going by Dominique Destine and been able to become human when she wants for several years by the time the story begins (read on to find out how that happened). A few of the characters have different names too. Coldstone is Vercinix, Coldfire is Mendela (and yes, bonus points do go to those of you out there who recognized those names from Xena: Warrior Princess ^_^;), and Bronx is Aslan (because Leo and Una's daughter named him that).

Also note that this is mostly a F/F (femslash) story, but there are also some M/M and F/M couples featured at times. Some of the other couples you'll see in this story are Leo and Una, Griff and Vercinix [Coldstone], Fox and Banshee [who goes by Wen], and David Xanatos and Raven (one of the children of Oberon).

* * *

It was a Wednesday late in June, 1995. In Manhattan, New York, the night was mild and balmy with a clear sky above her. The moon was full, and Detective Elisa Maza, NYPD, had a lot on her mind as she drove home that night in her red 1957 Ford Fairlane convertible. She'd just come off investigating a murder in the uptown financial district. It was obvious the victim had been a money launderer, obvious to her at least that he'd also been working for Tony Dracon, a local mob boss who thought he was above the law. Trouble was, so far anyway, he was right about that. Unless she got very lucky, there was no way she'd be able to tie him to this, if he was even the one who called for the hit. For all she knew right now, Dracon might not have been her victim's only client, or it could even have been a rival of Dracon's trying to cripple his cash flow (if so, then there would probably be more crime scenes like this popping up before the week was out).

Regardless of who had bankrolled it though, whoever pulled the trigger had been a pro, no question. Single gunshot to the back, cameras caught nothing, no witnesses and no evidence except the bullet itself. She'd spent hours trying to find something—sent uniforms out to canvass the area, talked to everyone who she thought might have seen anything. Nothing. The ballistics would be back tomorrow, but that would probably be a dead end without the murder weapon to match it too. In short, she was feeling like she'd wasted an afternoon. She'd become a cop because she came from a family of cops, sure, but she'd also done it because she believed in what she was doing—in things like justice, a civil community, right and wrong, protecting people. The reality was though, you had to work hard for those things, and, from her perspective, it seemed like you only ever got them half the time.

All of which meant that she was definitely in the mood to go home, get something to eat (she was in the mood for pancakes for some reason, even though it was past dinner time), then curl up on the couch with her cat and watch TV or read a book for a while. Get a little lost in someone's imaginary world where the heroes always won in the end, the bad guys always ended up in jail, little boys didn't lose their dads, and happily ever after was just a clever plot twist away.

That's what was weighing on her most, really. The man who was shot? The money launderer? He'd also been a single father who'd lost his wife in a car accident two years ago. He had a five year old son. The man's girlfriend had brought him with her when she'd come down to the office building after getting the call from the police. The little boy had been quiet as a church mouse, wouldn't meet anyone's eyes for more than a second. Sure, his dad had all but certainly been a crook, but his son hadn't done anything and he'd had to live through losing both his mom and his dad. She wondered if Tony Dracon had even hesitated a little bit because of that, or if he'd even cared at all. He probably hadn't. People like that rarely did.

She was a little distracted with her thoughts, running the case over in her head again, when she stopped at a red light. It was a one lane road, a little after twelve o'clock at night. Her window was down and there weren't too many cars around at this hour. The moon was right straight ahead of her. She found herself looking at it while she waited, then she heard a crash and a body fell with crushing force onto a parked car across the street in her field of vision. "Holy..." She couldn't quite believe she'd seen that, but she got out of her car anyway. The light turned green and the one car behind her honked.

"Police!" She yelled at the driver of the car. "Knock it off!" She looked up at the building above where the body had fallen from. There weren't any lights on up there, but she heard sounds of a struggle and saw a flash of something through the window on the top floor. She hurried back into her car, shifted it into drive, and hit the gas hard, jerking the car forward and making an illegal turn to park by the curb in a red zone across the street by the building where the disturbance was happening. She checked her sidearm under her jacket, grabbed her assault rifle and a crowbar from her trunk, then headed for the building. The building had a coffee shop/bistro on the bottom floor, closed for the night. The top floors looked like offices. The door to the stairs was locked of course, so she had to use the crowbar to pop the lock. Luckily the door was weak enough to give from the crowbar and she wouldn't need to resort to more drastic means to gain entry. The department would get a bill for the repairs no doubt, but she had solid probable cause and extenuating circumstances on her side, not to mention it was also obviously the right thing to do if someone needed help up there, so it was an easy call to make.

She rushed up the stairs at a run until she got to the third floor and the offices of Kendrick and Associates—the placard on the wall by the door told her they were lawyers who handled estate planning. The door beside the placard was already broken down though, glass on the floor. She discarded her crowbar and went through, keeping to the shadows and staying quiet while still moving as fast as possible. She heard the sounds of struggle again and something that sounded like growling, but not from any wild animal she'd ever heard before. It kind of made her shiver a little, actually, but she kept going anyway, fleetingly wishing she'd called for backup and not all that sure why she hadn't thought to, other than that she was just tired and in need of sleep. It was a stupid mistake, really, but it was too late to go back now. If she did, whatever was going on in there might be over by the time she made it back, and that could mean someone might end up dead who she could have saved.

There was another crash and a man crying out in pain and more of that unearthly growling. She came to a room with desks and furniture and file cabinets, mostly all strewn about in a state of disarray and ruin. There were men garbed all in black and grays, state of the art body armor and night vision goggles. And there was... this woman, this... creature—human looking, but with wings like a dragon, claws, shadowy light blue skin, and glowing red eyes. Still though, definitely a woman—one dressed in a stylized and formfitting dark blue side-slitted skirt and tank top. The outfit looked sort of like a cross between an evening gown and runner's gear. They had an electrified net over her and were poking her with what looked like... electrified _javelins_.

It was such an unreal tableau, she couldn't even guess where to begin to reconcile it with reality, really, but whatever this woman was and whatever her attackers thought they were doing, Elisa knew one thing with perfect clarity: it was cruel and it turned her stomach to see it. She couldn't know for sure she was doing the right thing, of course. She knew from experience that things were very often not what they appeared, so the woman could somehow be the bad guy in all of this, she supposed—but really, as a cop, if you see someone getting attacked, you help them and deal with the rest later. You don't stop to ask if the person being beaten and abused started it. You just don't.

She stepped out of the shadows, leveled her assault rifle and shot at one of the javelins. Her shot hit the mark just above one of the black-clad men's hands. He jumped back as shrapnel and sparks came from the destroyed weapon. "NYPD! Drop your weapons, hands on your heads! Now!"

The scene before her seemed to freeze for a moment as everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and looked at her. It didn't last long though. The whatever she was in the net took the opportunity to charge at the man Elisa had disarmed, grab him, and throw him at the others.

Free of the javelins and with more room to move now, the mystery woman struggled with the net over her, trying to get it off.

"Switch to rubber bullets!" One of the armored men shouted the command, rallying the others.

Elisa took aim and shot one of them who was drawing a gun in the shoulder, reset her rifle, took aim and fired at another of the men who was aiming at her, hitting him in the shoulder as well. She ducked to the side and rolled, using her rifle as a club and hitting another of them in the belly with all the considerable force she could leverage behind it. It knocked the wind out of him and made him double over, so she knew she'd hit him at a good angle. She got up and hit him over the head with the butt of her rifle next—hopefully, he'd be out cold.

She looked over and saw the woman with the wings finally get free of the net. Two of the men with those electrified javelins of theirs were advancing on her while another was leveling a gun. Elisa didn't have time to use her own gun, so she charged him with it and used it like a battering ram. He fired just before she crashed into him. Her heart sank a little at the sound, knowing she might have failed and the woman with the wings could be hurt or even dead because she hadn't been fast enough. Even rubber bullets could kill if they hit you in the wrong place. She crashed to the debris-strewn floor on top of the man.

"What sort of crazy are you, lady?" He asked her in disbelief, getting leverage and pushing her off him.

She'd lost her rifle—Elisa heard the sound of it being reset and realized with dread that the man she'd just tackled had it now instead. She looked and saw him leveling the gun at her. Luckily, the way she'd landed, she was able to kick out with her left leg and knock off his aim. She made a desperate tackle for him next, knowing she was too far from cover to do anything else before he could aim the gun at her again. They landed on the floor together with a hard thud. He took the brunt of the impact, but, with that padded body armor of his, she knew she couldn't count on it giving her much of an advantage.

"Get off!" He commanded her in frustration as they struggled for possession of the riffle. He proved stronger than her though, and she didn't have good leverage or a good angle on her hold and he managed to pin her to the ground, the rifle like a crossbeam over her chest holding her down. "That thing's a monster! Can't you see that?" He railed.

"Yeah, well, you'll forgive me if I don't just take your word on that." She disputed. The way he had her pinned though, she knew she might be in real trouble.

"Whatever lady—boss said no witnesses anyway." He began to push the rifle up towards her neck. She had a hold of it too, but had no leverage, was at a bad angle, and he had more upper body strength. Sheer desperation was letting her hold out against him momentarily, but it would only be a second or two before her hold would give out, and she knew it. She'd consider going for the cheap shot and kneeing the guy's groin, much as she didn't like to do that kind of thing if she could help it, but she had to figure with all the body armor he was wearing, he'd have a cup. Plus, her legs weren't free enough for her to try that without him figuring out her intention and probably moving to counter. So there was really only one thing she could think to try. She spit in his eye.

He cursed and his hold faltered as he instinctively reached for his face to wipe the saliva away. She grabbed her wrist and pulled, bashing him in the head with her elbow, next hitting him in the neck with the side of her closed fist on the way back, and then clapping her hands over his ears as hard as she could.

He swore loudly.

She'd done some real damage with those hits, but he'd made it clear her life was in imminent danger from him, so that meant there was no way she was pulling any punches.

She rolled him off her and yanked her gun out of his hands then struck him with it in the head as she had one of the others.

She got up and looked over to see the woman with the wings break one of her attacker's necks and drop him on the floor—the knife she saw falling from the man's hand marking the death clearly as in self-defense, she was relieved to note. All of the armed men were down, though one was still conscious, and she counted one gone, which worried her. The winged woman turned on her, her eyes flashing red. She growled, faint but deeply resonantly from her chest. "Human." She spoke, her voice low and wary.

Her voice startled Elisa and made her shiver a little again. She did also relax a few degrees though, relieved that the woman could at least talk. The elegant yet practical way she was dressed aside, Elisa hadn't been completely sure until now that she hadn't been trying to rescue the equivalent of a wild animal who'd just as soon attack her as the armored mercenaries they'd just fought. By the look in the woman's eyes, she might do that anyway, but Elisa had the rifle still, and her hand gun holstered at her side. She was hoping she could reason with the woman rather than have to use either of her weapons, though. "That's me alright. Are, um, are you okay?" She asked. "Do you, I mean, are you hurt? Do you need... well, I'm not sure if a doctor could help you, but..."

The woman's eyes stopped glowing and she just sort of looked at her curiously. "You helped me... Why?" She asked guardedly, holding her shoulder as though it were wounded.

"You looked like you needed it?" Elisa ventured. "...Look, I'm not going to pretend I know what's going on here, who you are—you know, with the wings and everything—but you were being attacked, and it's my job to help. Your arm looks hurt..."

"It will heal." The woman told her. "...You are... strange, for a human." She offered, sinking down to the floor, apparently struggling to stay on her feet and failing.

Elisa dropped her rifle and went over to her. "Hey..." She came over next to her without even really thinking it through weather it was a good idea or not. "Hey... They really did a number on you, didn't they?" She asked, kneeling down next to her and touching her arm.

The woman hissed at her, her eyes glowing red again. "Stay away!" She warned, causing Elisa to fall onto her butt from where she'd been crouching.

She couldn't help it, it felt like her heart had leapt into her throat—her pulse sped up, she was scared. "Hey... I'm... I'm sorry, okay?"

The woman smiled just a little at that. "...I suppose I should thank you... for what you've just done for me." She apologized, not meeting Elisa's eyes.

"...Like I said, you looked like you needed it." Elisa repeated, sitting up, but keeping her distance this time.

"Perhaps. Most of your kind wouldn't see it that way, in my experience... What makes you different, I wonder?" She asked, halfway between curiosity and open suspicion.

"...Whether that's true or not, I couldn't give you an answer anyway." Elisa told her, yawning unexpectedly. "Sorry. Long night." She explained.

One of the men groaned and Elisa looked. It was the one she'd noted before as still conscious but out of it. He wasn't as out of it now, and he was getting up. "Excuse me a moment." She got up and went over to the guy, wrestled him to the floor and cuffed him to a support beam. "You're under arrest. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford an attorney, one will be provided to you free of charge. Do you understand these rights as I've explained them to you?" She asked, mirandizing him. She always made dead sure she did that whenever she put cuffs on anyone—always made sure she followed the rules to the letter whenever she could, in fact. She absolutely loathed the idea of a violent criminal escaping justice and being given the opportunity to victimize more innocent people just because she didn't do her job right. It had happened once and she'd sworn to herself she'd never let it happen again. Ever.

"Yeah." He replied, not meeting her gaze and still looking a little out of it. "I understand."

That done, she turned back to the mystery woman she'd saved, who was watching her with open curiosity. Elisa had made sure to keep track of her in her peripheral vision while she'd cuffed the mercenary of course, and the lack of any further aggression from her was encouraging. "...So, I don't suppose you'd be in the mood to tell me what exactly this was all about, would you...?" She asked.

"Demona." The woman said. "My name is Demona." It wasn't entirely a lie. That _had_ been her name, once.

* * *

( to be continued )

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	2. A Matter Of Trust

**Brave... Part 2: A Matter Of Trust**

* * *

"Demona." Elisa repeated, going back over and sitting cross-legged in front of her. "My name is Elisa—Elisa Maza. I'm a detective with the 23rd precinct." She knew maybe she should be more cautious about this, but Demona didn't seem to be hostile, much—though she was clearly dangerous, or could be if she wanted to be. The bottom line was though, she'd decided to trust this woman to an extent. She had few concrete reasons she could think of as to why. She was mostly going with her gut. Truthfully, it all seemed just slightly unreal to her. Like as though, when she hadn't been paying enough attention, she'd stepped into another world—one _like_ her own, but... with obvious differences. She wasn't usually the kind of person who saw the use in believing in things without evidence, but Demona was right there in front of her—very undeniable. What that actually meant about anything though, she hadn't a clue. She was tired. She'd been up since five AM, running around the city for one reason or another. She hadn't been getting enough sleep the last few days either, in fact, and her adrenalin was pumping because she'd just been in a fight for her life. She knew that wasn't exactly a state that lent itself best to critical thinking. So she was just going to go with it for now, and hope it started to all make a bit more sense as time went on. "So, care to tell me your story?" She asked.

The woman studied her a moment. "I came here looking for... information, on a personal matter. These men were waiting for me. If you hadn't shown up when you had, I likely might be their prisoner by now." She explained.

"Do you know why they were after you? Who sent them?" Were her next questions.

"I have a... strong suspicion." Demona confessed.

"So, who's the suspect?" Elisa asked.

Demona seemed to consider whether or not to answer for a moment, but, in the end, she spoke. "David Xanatos." She told her.

"...Okay..." Elisa immediately recognized the name of course—he was one of the wealthiest, most influential men in the city—the _world_, probably. That he would be involved in wrongdoing came as little surprise to her. Rich men rarely _got_ to be rich men by playing by the rules. The trouble was, of course, it was a hugely daunting thing, the prospect of having to try to prosecute one of them. She'd faced more than a few cases with ties to people like that, and they were never easy and rarely was she truly satisfied with the results. "Do you know why?"

"I imagine I would have been destined for a laboratory somewhere." She replied, not telling Elisa that there was more to it than that of course.

"Alright... That makes about as much sense as anything I suppose... And, the wings and everything?" She asked. "Did those... come from a laboratory somewhere, or did you come by them naturally?"

"...Naturally. Humans aren't the only species that call this world home, detective, they aren't even the first... At one time, there were many like me." She explained in a softer voice. "Whole clans..."

"...What happened to them?" Elisa asked.

"Your kind." Demona told her accusingly, her eyes growing hard. "Humans have always hunted us."

"That's..." Elisa couldn't quite think of anything to say to that. She looked into the other woman's eyes. "You're telling the truth, aren't you?"

"Traditionally, my kind do not lie... though, I have had to learn over the years." She confessed. "There are not many of us left, I think." She admitted.

"...Well, I somehow don't think bringing you down to the station to give a statement would do anyone any good, least of all either of us. But, are you sure you don't want my help?" Elisa asked. "I'm not sure what I could do, but... I want to try, if you'll let me. I know some first aide at least, I dated a nurse for a while..." She told her.

They heard sirens in the distance.

"Sounds like someone called in the disturbance." Elisa observed.

"I need to leave." Demona told her, getting to her feet and groaning a little from the effort.

"Can you, um—can you fly?" Elisa asked.

Demona looked at her and a hint of a smile crossed her lips. "I can manage." Though, privately, she was less than completely sure of that. She still felt dizzy from all the electricity they'd pumped through her.

"...One of them got away, you know." Elisa told her. "I counted when I first came in. One of the two men I shot in the shoulder is missing... How likely is it they have reinforcements nearby, do you think?"

"...In other words, you suspect a second ambush?" Demona looked to her.

"They had to know this was a risk, even at this time of night." She allowed. "It's not out of the question they'd have a second team nearby, either as backup or as a failsafe. A man like Xanatos could certainly afford it."

"What do you suggest?" Demona asked, a little amused, but also taking this very seriously.

"I'm not sure." She considered. "If they had a second ambush planned, I imagine they'd be expecting you to leave by air."

"They would, at that." Demona conceded, privately considering that, indeed, it wouldn't be out of character for David Xanatos to plan something of the kind. He'd know he'd never get a better chance once she knew his intentions. He'd know this was his best opportunity. "Perhaps..." She looked at the conscious mercenary whom Elisa had cuffed.

"...You don't want him to overhear what you want to tell me?" Elisa asked.

"It would be better if he did not." Demona confirmed. What she was considering doing was going to be a risk—if a tactically sound one that Xanatos wouldn't see coming. Of course, the seemingly sincere Detective Maza could, herself, be a trap of some kind. It seemed unlikely of course, given the circumstances, but then humans had caught her off guard with the depths of their cunning before, and the idea of a human who would come to her aide as Elisa Maza had just done and not look upon her with distrust or any more fear than the respect for her blatantly superior physicality would warrant seemed nearly as farfetched. Nevertheless, her instincts were telling her that the detective was not deceiving her—was, in fact, being nothing less than wholly genuine—as hard as that was for her to readily accept.

Elisa looked between the conscious mercenary and Demona, then at the other mercenaries. He was still the only one awake, though she knew it was possible that could change. Ideally, she wished she had more handcuffs of course, but she'd only brought the one pair. "Let's go to another room then. They probably won't give us any more trouble until the squad cars arrive." She went over and offered Demona a hand up.

Demona looked a little unsure, but then reached out and took her hand, getting to her feet. It was interesting to Elisa how Demona seemed to wrap her wings about her like a cape. She did it like it was a normal everyday thing for her, and not something completely in the realm of the fantastic, as it seemed to be from Elisa's perspective.

"My bag." Demona spoke, looking around the room a moment before she caught sight of it.

Elisa followed her gaze, considered a moment. "I'll get it." She offered, going over to get it out from under a fallen desk while Demona watched on. When she'd retrieved it, she turned around to find Demona regarding her with open curiosity. "Got it." She told her.

Demona actually smiled a little bemusedly at that. "So I see." She told her, offering her something that might by some stretch of the imagination, be considered a small smile.

Elisa smiled a little too, and walked back to her, handing her the bag once she'd returned.

"This isn't going to be all that easy to explain, you know." Elisa commented as they walked from the room and she held the door open for the other woman. "Everything else wouldn't be a problem, but the claw marks? That's a tough one."

"...You seem resourceful. I'm sure you'll think of something." Demona replied as they came out into the stairway.

"Watch your feet, there's glass..." Elisa watched as Demona walked on it with no worry evident.

"It can't penetrate my skin as it would a human's." She explained, wondering at how Elisa seemed to be at ease with her, perhaps even trust her, so easily. She couldn't help it, she wanted to offer that same kind of trust in return.

"Evidently." Elisa allowed. "Which way are we going?" She asked, referring to up towards the roof or down towards the street.

"Down." Demona told her.

"If you're sure." She agreed. They walked down the steps to the second floor. "Okay, this should be far enough away. He won't be able to hear."

"Against my better judgment, I'm trusting you, Elisa." Demona told her, looking meaningfully into Elisa's eyes a moment, then bringing her wrist up to her lips, closing her eyes, and softly kissing the bracelet she wore there. There was no sound—even the background sounds of the city seemed to fade away—but there was a kind of... resonance in the air. It wasn't something Elisa heard with her ears, more it was something she felt with her entire body.

As Elisa watched, sparkles of light and mist danced around Demona and she... changed. Soon, she was a human woman, with the same wild red hair, and, Elisa noted more than she really had previously, not very many clothes on. No shoes, most problematically...

Demona opened her eyes and met her gaze—Elisa recognized her. "You're Dominique Destine?"

Dominique Destine was the owner and C.E.O. of Nightstone Unlimited, a rather large global corporation known for its work in research and development as well as for its rather extensive charitable endeavors, especially in Central America. Elisa remembered seeing an interview with her on the news a few weeks ago in fact—she'd actually been impressed, as she recalled. The woman had just seemed... like she'd had character, ethics even—strong ones. She'd been undeniably attractive too, with a very appealing voice—one she only now belatedly recognized.

"Very few people know my secret, Detective Maza. Can I count on your... discretion?" She asked.

"I um, how did you do that though? _Change_ like that?" Elisa asked.

"Magic. A spell, given to me by... a friend, for my protection." She told her.

"Magic now..." She shook her head a little.

"My secret, Elisa—will you keep it?" Dominique pressed, moving forwards towards Elisa, her eyes letting Elisa know that she was very serious about having an answer.

Elisa sighed and closed her eyes. "I'll give you the same deal that the lawyers and therapists give." She offered, having opened her eyes and met Dominique's gaze again as she'd spoken.

"In other words: as long as I don't tell you I'm planning to commit a felony, you'll keep my secrets?" She asked before Elisa could explain.

"Pretty much. That good enough for you?" She asked.

"In fact, it is. Thank you, Elisa." Dominique told her, appraising Elisa thoughtfully again. She trusted that answer more than she would have a blanket promise of loyalty, actually.

There was the sound of cars pulling up, sirens shutting off, car doors opening.

"Um, I think this is the part where I offer you my jacket?" Elisa observed, looking down at the other woman's state of dress. What she was wearing could pass for evening wear perhaps, but it was very eye-catching against the woman's now pale, human skin... especially lacking shoes. "Unless you can, you know, wave your hand and conjure up some less conspicuous clothing?"

"I can't, actually." Dominique told her as Elisa started to take off her jacket. Dominique held up a hand to forestall her though, smiling a little at the kind gesture. "That doesn't mean I don't have another option though." She brought her bag around from where it had been hung over her shoulder. It was a small pack she'd carried in case she needed to appear as a human for some reason. She opened it and took out a set of clothing, including shoes and a jacket.

"Oh." Elisa said, smiling. She laughed a little. "Well, that makes sense, I guess." She admitted. She looked down the stairs. "How fast can you get dressed?" She asked.

"I..." Dominique looked to Elisa. "I'd rather not have to explain my presence here, if I can avoid it. Can I? Avoid it, I mean?" She asked.

"I... well," Elisa considered and saw the problem. They could say she was kidnapped by the mercenaries upstairs or something... It was about the only way to explain things that that she could think of at the moment—but putting Dominique through the media frenzy that could well follow seemed, to say the least, not a very kind option. Not to mention the fact that there was a very real possibility that the story wouldn't hold up under the kind of scrutiny that the media might bring to bear against them. "I see your point. Let's see. Maybe you can wait here?" She offered. "If you close the door and duck down, they won't see you. I can come back for you once the coast's clear?"

"...Alright. I think I'll... just take you up on that, thank you." Dominique answered, going to the door, her hand on the doorknob. She looked into Elisa's eyes again and held her gaze a moment more, just to assure herself again of her choice to trust this woman, and then she turned and closed the door behind her, sitting down on the floor against the wall so she couldn't be seen through the window in the door that was higher up. She heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Elisa Maza identifying herself to her colleagues, telling them the crime scene was upstairs. Then more footsteps as they all went up to the third floor. It was all somehow anti-climactic, she thought to herself. A part of her had been sure, even though her feelings had very definitely told her otherwise, that the police detective who'd come to her rescue would betray her in the end. That part of her still thought it was likely, in fact—that either this was all some sort of subterfuge, or that Elisa's good intentions wouldn't last. No human's ever had where she'd been concerned, and she had been alive for a very long time—too long, she sometimes thought.

When the police officers were far enough away, she set about getting dressed over the outfit she wore as a gargoyle. A pair of jeans, a blouse, and a thin leather jacket, socks and flats. High end, tailored clothing, but not very remarkable at a glance. It was uncomfortable and tiring to get the clothes on, her muscles and tendons protesting the exertion after having gone through such abuse.

She got it done though, and, with relief, let herself slip down to sit against the wall again.

She let her eyes close. She really was very tired from her ordeal tonight. The net and the prodding she'd taken from those javelins had taken more out of her than she'd wanted to let on. And now that she'd magically shifted to human form, she feared it was taking even more of a toll.

She let her thoughts drift back to what had happened moments before. Elisa Maza was obviously a very capable woman, to have taken on so many and won through as she had. And there was just something about her eyes... She had such beautiful eyes. Honest, reliable, open, true, even brave... Rare qualities in anyone, but even more so in a human. She felt her body shutting down from exhaustion, but was unable to stop it from happening. As she fell asleep, she found herself thinking that Elisa Maza somehow reminded her of a gargoyle... Maybe that's why'd been willing to trust her as she had...?

* * *

Some minutes later, from the shadows of a building across the way, Raven, one of the exiled children of Oberon, watched his enemy making her escape with the help of a human police woman. Seeing her, he seethed with a hatred he hadn't been able to shake since the last time he'd seen her, over nine years ago... He'd tried to let it go, truly he had tried to... It simply wasn't in him to be forgiving however, it seemed—for whatever reason, it never had been. So here he was, and he was walking a fine line... He smiled to himself though. No one was making this easy for him, and that was good. It might even be half the reason this endeavor of his appealed to him so. He'd never liked _easy_. He wanted to draw this out. He wanted to enjoy this.

Was the police woman an ally of hers? One that had been waiting nearby in case something happened? He wouldn't have thought so, as her accomplice was clearly only human, but he supposed it didn't matter. Whether by chance or by prior intent, the human was part of the game now... _His_ game—and she'd shown herself to be resourceful too, hadn't she? Getting Destine out of there with her fellow police none the wiser.

Looking closer, he could just almost sense something disturbingly familiar about her... Some magic, perhaps? It was so very faint, he wondered if he were imagining it. Whatever it might or might not be though, he thought he might like to scent this woman a little closer sometime soon, if only to set his mind to ease...

Behind him, a door opened and he stirred from his musings, turning and cocking his head at the man before him now. One of the mercenaries his human lover had hired had managed to escape, had he? The man looked injured and frayed about the edges of him. Even though he and his cohort had failed in their assigned task, this one had been more resourceful than his fellows at least, to escape when they hadn't. That deserved rewarding, didn't it? He could be kind at times... when that kindness had been well earned.

Raven stepped from the shadows—a tall, well-built Native American man with wind-swept chin-length black hair, dressed in an impeccable business suit. "_Travis Wells_, wasn't that your name?" Raven asked.

The man turned to look at him, surprised into a defensive stance. He relaxed seeing who it was though. "...Mr. Blackfeather, sir." He spoke, taking off his helmet to reveal matted dust-brown hair and tired gray eyes.

"You've been injured." Raven smiled a peaceful smile, walking over to him and touching his cheek. As he did, the man's injures vanished and he fainted. Raven swept him up into his arms and looked out into the night, out across the city... towards the Eyrie Building. Curiously, he imagined his heart might just be pulling him back there...

He walked to the building's edge and stepped off, his changeling body shimmering in the moonlight as he slipped into the familiar shape of the creature that was his namesake and flew away unseen, into the night, a small field mouse caught in his beak.

* * *

( to be continued )

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	3. The Offer Of Sanctuary

**Brave... Part 3: The Offer Of Sanctuary**

* * *

It was sometime after one, getting close to one-thirty at night, and Dominique found herself in Elisa Maza's car, heading to the other woman's apartment. She was having trouble staying awake—really, they both were, she could tell that much at least. "Long night, detective?" She asked absently.

"I've been on my feet since five in the morning, yeah. A cup of peppermint tea would be heaven right about now." Elisa admitted, yawning.

"Just don't crash the car, and it'll be fine." Dominique commented, yawning herself—evidently it was contagious. She closed her eyes. Tea _would_ be nice, she had to agree (or coffee—a chi latté preferably, she reflected). In any case, Elisa was taking her home to her studio apartment. Apparently, she had a guest room for when her sister, Beth, would come into the city. Her sister was away at college now, in Arizona. Elisa's home was close, her own home was on the other side of the city, and Elisa seemed to trust her enough to extend the offer of sanctuary. She supposed it made sense—Elisa had to know she'd given her enough opportunity to kill her back at the office building when she'd been in gargoyle form, so why wouldn't she trust her now if she'd been able to trust her with her life then?

Two blocks from the scene, Dominique had asked Elisa to pull over, asking to borrow quarters to use a pay phone. Quarters freely given, she'd called Lockland's number from memory. He answered on the second ring. "Yes?"

"It's me." She'd announced herself, keeping her voice low enough to be sure Elisa wouldn't overhear from where she'd waited nearby in her car.

"Ms. Destine—what can I do for you tonight?" He'd answered.

"Call a full security lockdown and implement _farthing_. Now." She'd instructed him. _Farthing_ being the designation for one of the contingency plans she'd put in place regarding Xanatos. She didn't like employing assassins, of course, but that didn't mean that it wasn't sometimes necessary to protect her clan (which, by extension, also included her company, and the nation of Guatemala)—and she did trust Lockland to carry out her will on this. He'd done it before, after all. A number of times.

"...What's he done?" Lockland had asked, concerned.

She'd sighed. "Gone too far..." She'd told him. They weren't friends, she and Lockland, but the man did seem to care about her... She supposed, she probably cared about him to some extent as well. He was an upfront kind of person—the _what you see is what you get_ sort, as the humans might say—and she'd always liked that about him. They got along. "There was an attack. Mercenaries. I've managed to get myself to a secure location, but it was a close thing."

"I'd say he's got it coming then. I'll get it done. You need a pickup too?" He'd asked.

"No. Thank you." She'd told him.

"It's the job." He'd answered simply, disconnecting the line.

_It's the job_... Elisa had said something very like that too, hadn't she? That simple sense of duty...

She'd let out a breath. If Xanatos knew she had a contingency plan to eliminate him like this, it was in doubt if the assassins Lockland would set on him would succeed or not, but, at the very least, they might keep him off balance and occupied until she could finish this between them herself. She _hoped_ they would succeed though. As much as this was a regrettable situation, she wanted this over with before it got any worse. She dreaded to think what more a man like Xanatos might do if she were to give him the leeway for it.

The security lockdown would send an alert back to the mansion and Vercinix would know to lock things down there too, and to call everyone back. Most of her clan's adults would be out in the city tonight... If they were under threat from Xanatos though, then doubtless the attacks had been timed to coincide with her own. If the attacks did happen, Xanatos wouldn't have had them killed though, she comforted herself. He'd take them prisoner, to use as leverage against her in the event she slipped his net if nothing else—as she indeed had, thanks to Elisa Maza. No, calling Vercinix directly to get him to hurry things along by any small margin would be useless now. She'd simply have to hope she'd been the only target tonight. She'd call Vercinix later to assure him and the others of her safety and explain the threat, once she arrived at Elisa's. For now, it was best to keep him unsure of anything, that way he and later Una (once she returned and took charge) would prepare for anything. That, and she didn't wish to have him or any of the others coming out to retrieve her, which she was worried they might do, even were she to give them orders to the contrary, if they knew where she was. That would deplete her clan's defenses at a time when they were under threat and place them at unnecessary risk if Xanatos somehow managed to track her back to Elisa's residence. As weak as she was now, she would only be a liability to them anyway... Lockland hadn't been a good option either, she'd considered. She wanted him focused on Xanatos right now, and having him drive her to a safe house would have been testing the limits of even his discretion. She didn't want him asking the kind of questions he might start to ask in a situation like this. She'd come to trust and rely on the man to an extent, true, but she'd yet only dealt with him from a position of strength, having earned his loyalty by protecting his family and giving him a better life. He liked to think of himself as her protector, she knew, but that had never been put to the test and she wasn't at all eager to try her luck on that score.

No, she'd trusted Elisa Maza this far, she thought she might just as well trust her a bit further. Besides, something in her just wanted to know, she admitted to herself—once and for all—if it was possible to find a human who was truly worthy of her trust. She'd gotten to know a good many humans over her lifetime—mostly in recent years, as she'd been magically disguising herself as one of them. Few of them had impressed her with their character that very much—the majority not at all—and, certainly, none she'd yet trusted with her secrets... Though, she would admit to herself privately, that there was one human she'd actually come to consider as a friend. She liked to think that, if she were to tell Robyn Correy her secrets one day, they would be safe with her... but there had never been a reason to take the risk, and, with her track record in that area, she'd so far felt it wise to live in ignorance rather than be disappointed again. The last human she'd trusted in the way she was now trusting Elisa Maza had, well... she supposed she would have died long ago but for the bargain that had been struck between them, but that hadn't made his betrayal any less than utterly devastating, given what had resulted. If she were to attempt to befriend Elisa Maza now, the truth of her already laid bare at Elisa's feet, she wondered: how long would she have to wait until she felt betrayal's familiar sting once again?

Whether the answer was tomorrow, never, or sometime in between, somehow she thought it would be worth her time to find out. She'd lived a long life—a thousand years of hiding, hope, heartbreak, fury, betrayal, and worse. For many of those years, she'd hated humans—all humans—for what they'd taken from her, what they'd done to her kind. The things that hate had led her to do still haunted her sometimes, in fact... But she liked to think that she didn't have that in her anymore. The pain would always be there, yes, and she doubted she'd ever trust humans again in any sort of aggregate sense, but she'd gotten to a place of acceptance... or she hoped that she had anyway. She knew the world was a very dangerous and often terrible place for those without wealth, resources, support, or even just blind luck. For her kind, surely, those risks were even worse, should they be discovered—but she had those she needed to protect, those who relied upon her to make places of safety for them in the world... For that reason, if for no other, she'd learned she could ill-afford to let the demons of her past hold sway with her heart any further.

She knew very well she was taking a chance here with this woman she'd only just met (even allowing that the _manner_ in which they'd just met had made more than a striking impression upon her). She couldn't think of a real reason to mistrust this woman, other than that she was human, but that didn't necessarily mean that Elisa was whom she seemed to be. Still... somehow, she did think she might just be putting her trust in the right person this time. She kept thinking of Elisa's eyes, both when the detective had fought for her and afterwards. They captivated her somehow... In any case, that Elisa knew her secret meant that she was a part of her life now—she would have to be. And that meant that her only choice, whether she was entirely comfortable with the idea or not, was to stay close and learn more about her, at least until she could be sure Elisa wouldn't betray her trust.

Some minutes later, she was relieved to see her own visage in her mind's eyes, to hear it speak to her. "My clan, there is danger. A full security lockdown of all of our holdings is in effect. Return to the mansion immediately. Guard our home. Protect the children. Wait for my instructions. Protect yourselves."

Vercinix and Griff had gotten the alert and one of them had burned one of the clarion spell scrolls that she and Una had prepared for situations like this. It would be seen by any who's blood had been mixed into the ink of the spell. Herself, Vercinix, Griff, Obsidiana, Leo, and Una. Griff and Vercinix were scheduled to stay home tonight. Leo and Una would be out taking in a concert. Obsidiana, she didn't know for certain, but... she'd taken to wandering lately, so...

Still, she could do nothing for them now, so she resolutely returned to engaging Elisa in conversation as they drove.

And so it was that, some minutes later, they pulled into a parking space in the small underground garage under Elisa's apartment building, and Elisa turned the key to shut the car off. "Well, we're here." She observed, looking over at Dominique who was blinking her eyes open. She considered the woman next to her a moment and found herself somehow fascinated. Oh, she was sure in the morning when her brain was no longer sleep-deprived she'd probably wonder just what the heck she'd gotten herself into (magic, a second species of intelligent life on Earth that had somehow been forgotten by human history, corporate intrigue, billionaires, armed mercenaries, a kidnapping attempt, and who knew what else—it was a long list)... not that she'd really had much choice in the matter. She was too tired to safely drive Dominique across town to her own home, and too worried about what could happen to her if she just left her to her own devices. She couldn't live with herself if she did that and Dominique ended up dead the next day, and besides... Dominique Destine had just seemed like someone who could use someone on their side for once. Like she was someone who... had been alone for too long. That, at least, was something Elisa could very much relate to. Less so the wings and magic and everything of course, but, whatever it all meant, she had a feeling that her life had just gotten considerably more interesting... and, as far as she was concerned, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. She'd just have to see what happened. Tomorrow. "Sleep, here I come."

"Seconded." Dominique groaned as she got herself up and opened the passenger side door on Elisa's car. She got to her feet, but she realized her body was stiff and ached all over. Being human, compared to the raw power, energy, and vitality she felt as a gargoyle, was always something of a letdown to her—now more so than usual, obviously.

She took a few steps, but found herself feeling dizzy and using the car to steady herself. Elisa was there though. "Here, let me help you." The other woman offered.

Dominique regarded her thoughtfully, the sound of Elisa's voice strangely comforting somehow. "If you must." She quietly acquiesced, letting Elisa put her arm around her and, in turn, leaning against the other woman for support as they walked into the building proper and headed towards a stairwell.

"Sorry—no elevator. We're in for little of a climb." Elisa explained. It was an old building (if well maintained), so it didn't have things like elevators. It was one of the reasons she could afford the rent on her salary. That, and that it was rent controlled. It had been her mom's place growing up, had passed to one of her friends when she'd married, had children, and moved out to the suburbs, then it had passed to Elisa when she'd needed it.

"I think I can manage." Dominique replied with a little of a rueful smile, thinking to herself how easy it would be to climb these stairs as her true self. She could do it in less than a minute, without a doubt. As it was, it seemed to take an interminable length of time, and she had to fight to stay conscious all the way there. She didn't complain or even groan once though, willing herself to maintain at least that much dignity in front of her new... ally? Protector, she supposed. A strange feeling, she considered. It had been... a very long time since anyone had played that role in regards to her ...It was nice, even allowing that she couldn't bring herself to completely trust the feeling quite yet, or the person who'd evoked it in her.

They moved in silence to Elisa's front door, which was one of only two on the top floor (the other door was to a utilities room that only the building's super ever went into).

Elisa opened the door for them, and they walked through together. Once inside, Dominique found herself looking around curiously. It was a fairly big place, she realized. Not nearly as big as her own of course, but it was nice. There was a high ceiling, a sunken living area, and an angled wall that was almost all one big window. The subtle scents, clean and welcoming, evoked pleasant feelings in her too. Everything was neat and, while not exactly elegant, very beautifully and thoughtfully laid out. It was apparent that Elisa had taken her time with it and took pride in her apartment. It definitely had the feeling of a sanctuary, a... home. At her feet, Dominique felt something furry and warm brush up against her leg. She stiffened and looked down, seeing a gray cat who was purring to her a little.

"Cagney likes you, I think." Elisa smiled to her.

"You have a cat..." She observed. Well, obviously Elisa had a cat, she internally chided herself a little for saying something so perfunctory. Of course, she felt very nearly like she was about to pass out from exhaustion (again), so perhaps it was understandable that she found herself at a loss for eloquence?

"Do you like cats?" Elisa asked, her own mind rather running on fumes at present. Cagney meowed to her and went towards the kitchen, obviously wanting a refill on her food or water—she'd have to get to that after she saw to her guest though.

"I... never thought about it one way or the other." Dominique admitted as they walked towards a hallway.

"Not a pet person, huh?" Elisa replied, pausing and leaning against a wall.

Dominique paused too and met her host's eyes. "...My... I have a dog. I like his company very much." She admitted.

"What's his name?" Elisa questioned.

"I..." She had to think a moment. "Aslan. They- He was named Aslan. After the lion from the book." Dominique told her absently, watching Cagney jump up onto the kitchen counter and settle into laying down, yawning as she did.

"Was named?" Elisa asked, curious why she'd taken so long to remember her dog's name. And what book had the name come from?

Dominique looked to her again and realized her misstep. She didn't want to tell her who was responsible for the name though. She'd have to obfuscate. "Yes, I... It wasn't my choice. I didn't want..." She sighed. "A friend named him that."

"You wanted to name him something else?" Elisa asked, finding that Dominique was rather cute when flustered. She pushed off the wall and led Dominique down the hallway, realizing she was probably being selfish in wanting to keep _talking_ with this woman, when she obviously needed rest. They both did.

"No, I..." Dominique followed after Elisa again. "I'd rather not have named him at all... actually." She just hadn't had the heart to tell Lunette no... Children were hard for her to say no to. She knew it was, perhaps, a flaw on her part. It was hard to be around them at all at times, really... Sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes it was a joy...

"Huh. Why not?" Elisa asked with interest as she opened the door to her guest room for them.

"He is my friend, but he is also... a reminder of simpler times for me, I suppose. When the world seemed... My kind, traditionally, don't give names, you understand—not to animals, places, objects, or to each other. I didn't have a name either, once. Not until... much later in my life." She confided.

"Really? So... why _Dominique_ then? Or _Demona_ for that matter?" Elisa asked as she sat her guest gown on the bed and sat next to her tiredly.

"_Dominique_ was the name a friend gave me." She admitted to her softly. "We met at a villa outside of Paris. She bestowed it upon me while we were talking over lunch at a bistro. I... never thought to ask her what, if any, the significance was, though I suspect it was only a whim on her part. As for _Demona_... It's a name I haven't used in many years, until tonight." She paused a moment in thought. "A human gave it to me long ago. He called me that out of... We were friends, or I'd thought we were friends. Allies, at least, against a common foe. The humans we'd allied with and fought beside said that I fought like a demon. In general, they looked upon me and my kind with respect at best, or fear at worst. At the time, I'd thought he'd meant the name out of respect, and as a way to lessen the fear of the men who followed him in some way. Now I... I'm not sure I ever knew him at all." She regarded Elisa again, bringing her mind back to the present. "In any case, it's not a name that I want to define me anymore."

Elisa smiled thoughtfully to her. "It doesn't." She told her simply.

Dominique looked into Elisa's eyes and tried to fathom what she saw there and couldn't. She found she very much enjoyed the attempt though. "For a human, you're very unusual, Detective Elisa Maza..." She told her, laying back on the bed on her back. "It's... refreshing." She admitted tiredly. "Also more than a little confusing, honestly."

"Well, thanks... I think." Elisa yawned and heard Cagney meow from the other room. "I um, I need to go feed my cat. Do you, that is, do you think you'll need any help... getting ready for bed?" She offered a little reluctantly. Not that the idea didn't have a certain appeal, it just... didn't seem appropriate somehow. Like she felt she somehow had to offer the disclaimer: _Just to be sure—you know I'm gay, right?_—as much as it bugged her that she felt she had to think about things like that. It wasn't like she'd even gone out on a date in... she didn't know _how_ long.

"I can manage..." Dominique told her, groaning and sitting back up. In the car, after they'd gotten away from the scene, Elisa had asked after her injuries, and she'd told her she wasn't seriously hurt and had somehow found herself admitting that she would heal as soon as the sun came up. It was a peculiarity of the fae magic that let her become human that her body still fed on sunlight during the day, giving her accelerated healing during the daylight hours, whichever form she chose to take... and she _could_ exist as a gargoyle in the daylight without turning to stone, whereas a gargoyle who had not been magically protected against it could not. She supposed it made sense, as her gargoyle self would need sunlight to function whatever the case, and the original purpose of the magic Titania had gifted her with had been to allow her to protect and guide Fox, day or night. Still, as Fox had told her before: energy remained energy, whether magic, solar, or electrical, so the energy her gargoyle self needed to function had to come from somewhere. In a way, it was also a small comfort to her, that, even as a human, some part of her biology remained that of a gargoyle. She looked up as Cagney came in, hopping up onto the bed, and Dominique found herself welcoming the cute little gray cat onto her lap. Dominique offered the cat her open palm, and Cagney rubbed her cheek against it. She smiled fondly, immediately charmed. She looked up to Elisa who was watching her with tender regard and Dominique couldn't help but smile a little shyly to her.

"Seems like the jury's in. You like cats alright." Elisa told her a little playfully.

"Well... I do this one, at least." Dominique admitted.

Cagney meowed to Elisa again and Elisa chuckled softly. "I think I'm in trouble if I keep putting off getting this one her food."

"Go on then." Dominique told her with warmth in her voice. "I'll be fine here, I promise."

"Okay then..." Elisa took Cagney up in her arms (the cat starting to purr as Elisa petted her), got up, and made to leave.

Dominique watched after her with a distracted sort of fascination.

If someone had asked her yesterday how she'd be spending the night tonight, this... was not at all what she would have expected the correct answer would be.

She shook her head though. Sometimes, she'd found, life just had a way of really surprising you.

* * *

( to be continued )

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	4. Only My Thoughts, Carrying Me Away

**Brave... Part 4: Only My Thoughts, Carrying Me Away**

* * *

"Detective Maza...?" Dominique found herself speaking up impulsively just as Elisa was walking through the door.

"Yes?" Elisa turned back to her and their eyes met.

"I... Thank you for- Just... thank you." She offered, feeling... Trust did not come easily to her, and the feeling lay uneasily in her even more so having expressed it out loud. It struck her then just how vulnerable she really had left herself where Elisa Maza was concerned tonight—and a big part of her couldn't help but feeling she'd made a mistake somehow, an old one, one that she would soon come to regret all over again. Still, she only saw open warmth, sure strength of character, and a complete lack of guile on Elisa's face, in her eyes, and she found herself very hard-pressed to summon the usual wary distrust and suspicion she harbored for most other humans. Certainly... she didn't hate her, not at all. She realized then that a part of her still had. Hated humans. Hated all of them. Even her friend, Robyn, in a small way she hadn't even realized was there. She only recognized it now, because it... wasn't there this time...

"You're welcome." Elisa smiled to her easily and then left to feed her cat, closing the door behind her.

Dominique looked at the door after Elisa left, her thoughts caught in limbo for a few moments. She finally let out a breath and got up, taking off her jacket, putting it on the bed, and going over to look out the window at the night sky to try and clear her thoughts. It always looked so much darker with human eyes... Even after all these years, she wasn't completely used to differences like that. It still didn't feel like she was... really herself when she was like this. It was a strange feeling, and one she could usually just put out of her mind... except, of course, at times like this, when she couldn't.

She felt heavy on her feet, and still kind of dizzy—though, she noticed, she was feeling just a little bit better from the walk up the stairs and everything, if still very tired. She caught herself yawning again. She looked down and started to strip out of her clothing for the night, letting it fall to the floor as she did. She only left her bracelet, with the transformational magic within it, on... She _could_ take it off and remain human, but she would need to put it back on to become her gargoyle self again. To be safe, she had always made _very_ sure to keep it on when she became human—the thought of what the consequences would be if she ever were to be separated from it while not her true self always a silent specter in the back of her mind that she didn't enjoy contemplating over much. There _were_ two other bracelets in existence, of course, both of which belonged to her clan (though one of those was currently in Guatemala), but that only mitigated the danger to an _extent_. The troubling nuisance of this was that she _had_ to be human to sleep now. She'd tried several times as a gargoyle, and hadn't been able to. The most she'd been able to manage was a lazy half-sleep when laying in the sun, but even then she remained very much aware of the sounds around her, and the feel of the sun and rock against her skin. At night, she hadn't been able to manage even that. She'd finally decided that her kind must not be able to sleep as humans did.

Soon after she'd been given the bracelet originally, she'd tried to take the bracelet off so that she could sleep in stone form as a gargoyle again, but it hadn't worked. She'd since concluded that the bracelet must only act as a means to transform from one form to another, and that the changes made were permanent, even when the bracelet was not worn. Of course, that had brought up other worries for her: the foremost having been that of what might happen to her even as a gargoyle if she lost the bracelet? How long could she go without sleep before it drove her mad? She'd read human medical publications on the subject that said that human beings lost mental cohesion without sleep. Not wanting it hanging over her head, she'd once spent eight days as a gargoyle, only dozing in the sun, never truly sleeping, and had suffered no ill effects at all. Needless to say, it had been a large relief.

Another worry for her had come later and it was not one that could be so easily disproven. The forming of her new clan in the modern world had begun when she'd bargained with Titania to free Aslan from his stone prison, and continued more than a year later when she, Fox, and Aslan had traveled back in time to the fall of Castle Wyvern in 994 using a fae artifact called the Phoenix Gate. Either by providence of the gate itself, or by the essential nature of time, past events were immutable. Traveling through time, anything you did could only ever cause events to happen exactly as they always had (the magic rebelled against you if you tried too hard to work around that law). She hadn't been able to save anyone she'd known to have died, but she'd saved two whose fates she'd been unaware of up until that point: her clan sister Mendela and her clan brother Vercinix (so named only later by Fox). By the end of that sojourn, Dominique had found herself stabbed through the heart on a Viking's sword, Fox having gotten the four of them home while she'd been dead. She'd revived soon after returning of course, and had two of her long-lost clanmates returned to her. It had... felt like miracle. She and Fox had still been on good terms with Titania at that point, and they'd prevailed upon her to create two more bracelets, one for Mendela and one for Vercinix. Fox had lacked the skill with her magic to make bracelets like that herself at that point, but, when Dominique had told her the words of the Weird Sisters spell that had given her and Macbeth their immortality, Fox had been able use the idea to cast a variation on the spell on Vercinix and Mendela. It had been another miracle, that she would no longer have to live through history alone. That she would have Fox, Mendela, and Vercinix to share her eternity with.

They'd found the UK and Guatemalan clans later, after the rift between Fox and Titania had come about. Tatiana having bound her daughter's power to a great extent as a punishment for misusing it as she had. Dominique still had misgivings about what she'd essentially manipulated Fox into doing, but Fox and hadn't blamed her for it, and Tatiana... well, she'd likely find out one day, she supposed. Still, they'd found that the magic of the bracelets could be used by any who wore them. So she'd used them, changing the UK and Guatemalan gargoyles each from gargoyle to human and back again once so that the magic would take hold on them, to make every gargoyle in her clan as immune to the stone sleep as she, Mendela, and Vercinix had become. It had made perfect sense, and it still did—tactically, at the very least. It was how the humans had had such a relatively easy time of _butchering_ nearly the whole of her entire species, after all. While, equally armed and treachery absent, one gargoyle, awake, was generally a match for up to five or more humans in battle, it could only take one human with a mace or a hammer to destroy an entire _clan_ of gargoyles while they slept as stone during the day. Absent that weakness, history might have gone very differently. Still... even though only the act of kissing one of the bracelets themselves could affect the transformation from gargoyle to human and back again, what she and the others had done with those bracelets had... changed them—changed them all irrevocably. They weren't entirely true gargoyles anymore, any of them. She comforted herself by assuring herself that they were still essentially the same in almost every way, that what made them who they were was still there, that it had to be... and she truly did believe that it was. She'd be lying to herself if she told anyone that she was completely at ease with what she'd done though. Lying if she said that she did not resent the humans all the more for having made such measures a necessity...

But the world was as it was, and not even time travel could change it. She'd made her decisions, and she could be reasonably certain she would live long enough to see the results, whatever they turned out to be. It made little sense to live in fear of them, she told herself again, turning her mind from such thoughts.

The window before her looked up at the building next to them—more apartments, some with lights on, some not, and above and around that she could see the sky, the moon nearly out of view.

She found herself now with time to really think through the events of the night. She'd never thought all that highly of David Xanatos's character of course. She'd found his camaraderie tolerable, his open mind refreshing, and his charm at times engaging, but she'd never fooled herself into thinking that their relationship had ever been based on anything more than simple practicality. She'd sometimes found herself enjoying the game of it though, because he'd made it seem that way... as though it were a only a game. She'd taken precautions in case he was more serious than he let on, mind you, and, given the night's events, she was glad that she had. She'd known he wanted to know the secret of her immortality. He'd been the one to discover the secret of her true self, she hadn't chosen to share that with him. Much as it was now though, with Elisa, she'd had little other choice but to befriend him... She could have killed him, she supposed. Some among the clan had wanted her to, certainly. She'd been well past the point in her life by that time where she might have relished a chance to kill a human (any human) though, so, although it had been a risk, and although she'd certainly never trusted him anywhere near as much as she was letting herself trust Elisa Maza now, she'd decided to let him live. He'd sworn to keep her secrets, and he'd made himself a useful ally in her goals. He'd even gifted her with one of her lost, cursed clanmates, for which she'd been grateful... At one point, she might have even let herself think they had become something close to friends...

That fledgling friendship, if it had ever been there at all, had been souring between them lately though. He'd been pushing her too far past her comfort level. Nothing overt enough to be a sure justification for acting against him, but enough to where she'd come to wonder seriously if she were under threat from him. His business interests had been encroaching on hers as well, and he hadn't backed down when she'd asked him to. She hadn't wanted to, but she had been taking steps... Covertly weakening his company for one—to distract him, make him less of a threat, and maybe drive him towards her for help... Making contingency plans for his assassination, for another. She'd been hoping she wouldn't have to act on those plans, but she knew she would if the situation did not improve. Too much was at stake. She hadn't acted yet though, hadn't been sure enough it was the right thing. He'd done a lot for her, after all—had kept faith with her for the most part, and she'd wanted to honor that as much as she could. Had he somehow gotten wind of her contingency plans for him? Is that why he'd committed himself like this? It would make sense if he had. If that _was_ the reason for this, if he'd simply struck first out of fear for his own safety, then this was partly her own fault. She knew that could be true. Still, what was done was done. He'd made his choices and she'd made hers. They were both committed now, and she couldn't afford to let him live. If not just for her own sake, then, certainly, for those she cared for who stood to lose far too much if she weren't there to protect and care for them.

She walked over to the phone on the night stand and called the mansion.

"Hello?" Vercinix's deep, wary, troubled voice came over the line.

"It's me." She said for the second time that night. "Are you secure there? Is everyone accounted for?"

"Sister, what is..." He let out a relieved breath. "Where are you? What's transpired?"

She growled, frustrated. "Answer my questions!" She demanded, immediately regretting her sometimes short temper. He didn't deserve it. He was one of the very last in the world who did. She sighed. "I apologize. I'm... I just need for you to tell me-"

"I understand." He replied guardedly, but not without sympathy. "Obsidiana, Leo, and Una have all still yet to arrive." He told her. "The children are in the safe room and I've set the mansion's defense system to level one."

She sighed in relief. "That's good..."

"I've answered your questions sister, now you will answer mine." He insisted in low tones.

As quiet as Vercinix tended to be at times, she knew his resolve was powerful when it was needed, and it made her smile a little to be reminded of that. Especially now, when she needed her clan to be strong for her. "Yes, brother—yes, I am secure. I was... set upon, earlier this evening. Xanatos, we can be certain."

He let out a growl. "Give me your location. Griff will-"

"Griff will stay where he's needed!" She interrupted. "With you." She told him more gently. "With the children." She told him for added emphasis. "What I need you and the others to do now is to guard our home. I've taken measures. With any luck, Xanatos won't be a threat for much longer. I have to go now. Don't take any unnecessary risks, and tell Una the same when she returns." Una was her second, and likely the most formidable defense her clan possessed. In her place of power, among her books, Una alone could well deal with most any threat short of an all-out assault by a small army, even if the modern human-built security systems installed there should prove insufficient. "Tell her I'll call in later. Until then—until then, stay safe brother. Know my heart is with you, with all of you, always."

She hung up the phone's receiver, even as she heard the start of a protest begin to form from the other end of the line. She'd called into one of Nightstone's secure company routers, so the mansion's caller identification log wouldn't give Vercinix Elisa's telephone number, or her location. Simply dialing star sixty-nine would be ineffective as well, for that matter. He wouldn't be calling her back to pressure her for more details and he wouldn't be sending Griff after her, even if he might still want to.

She went back over to the window and looked out on the city again for a few long moments, her thoughts indistinct, before she closed the blinds and went to lay on the bed, getting under the covers. She turned off the lamp then and then, still agitated from the phone call and the worry it had intensified in her, let her mind consider Elisa Maza again. She considered how easily the woman seemed to have slipped past her defenses, considered how much trust she'd put in her, and how... how good that felt. As she thought it through... As she did, she realized something: What if this was just how David _wanted_ her to feel? What if this wasn't a response to her contingency plans for him after all and instead something he'd been planning for? If it was, then his actions didn't make as much sense, did they? Not unless... It would be a cunning strategy, she considered. David was very good at cunning strategies. And he knew her well, didn't he? Or well enough. Well enough to suspect, rightly, that she'd _never_ give him what he wanted, never help him attain the immortality he craved, and never give into him if he tried to force the issue. No... wouldn't it make more sense if Elisa were the real snare in all of this?

He was so good at it... At solving people, wasn't he? She'd seen it enough times. Part of it was good research, true, but part of it was all talent. A talent she'd never had. She'd learned to distrust, learned to plan many steps ahead and be guileful when needed, had even learned all too well how to hate... but, even after all this time, she knew her heart wasn't in it. She knew she was still vulnerable this way. That it was a practice that she had to continually make herself engage in by force of will. That, at the end of the day, at the end of every day, she still wanted to trust, wanted to believe that the world could be simple, could be good, like it was with the clan she'd grown up with. She thought too, despite that she'd realized over the long years that things weren't as black and white as she once believed, that it must also partly be a truth of her kind. That it was partly biology. That such cunning and ill use of others and of the world around them was a thing of humans, and not of her kind. Not of gargoyles. Was that it? Had he used that cruel human cunning of his and solved her? Seen what she would wish him not to have? Found a way to use it against her? When she considered it, it wasn't actually much of a stretch that he'd think of something like this. A common enemy? A heroic protector who also happened to be a very beautiful woman? A situation that compelled her to trust? It could all be a well-crafted misdirection to position a spy where she could do the most damage, couldn't it? ...She would never have given him her secrets, because she didn't and never would trust him to such an extent—rightfully so, obviously—but, with someone she truly trusted? Wouldn't she be likely to let down her guard? Hadn't she _already_ done so with Elisa more so than she ever had with him? Mightn't he be able to guess that would happen? ...It was an extreme sort of gambit, for the level of reprisal she would level on him if for no other reason, but that could be planned for, couldn't it? Humans had concocted more devious schemes. She couldn't dismiss the possibility out of hand. He could fortify himself in a remote or unknown location, or even fake his own death... To his mind, the trouble and the risk might well be worth it, if it got him what it wanted. It was possible.

She didn't like the thought of it, not at all... and, thankfully, thinking back on everything, she couldn't really credit it, could she? _Elisa_... She sat up and shook her head and tried to think critically. Could it be true? _Could_ it? She... She didn't think so—didn't want to think so, anyway. She sighed and felt a headache coming on. She wished she had the instincts for this. She wished she didn't always have to work at understanding humans so very much—didn't have to think everything out so obsessively to make sure she didn't_ miss_ anything...

It tended to make her paranoid, she knew. She knew too that she had more than enough reason to be, she knew that she did, but... She looked off into the darkened room and just thought. It could just as easily not be true, couldn't it? If Xanatos _had_ learned of her contingency plans, the mercenaries and the lure she couldn't resist could have simply been _his own_ contingency, enacted in relative haste to protect himself from her. That made just as much sense—much more, even, but... she had no real proof either way. She sighed... It didn't really make a difference in the here and now though, did it? If Elisa were this snare within a snare, then the best thing for her to do was still the same thing as if she weren't: to stay close to her, to learn more, and offer friendship. If Elisa were leading her on and playing her the fool, if humans really could be that _deeply_ devious, then she'd discover it and turn it to her advantage.

If not... If not, well, then that would be a very welcome thing, wouldn't it?

She lay down on the bed again under the covers, turning on her side and hugging her arms around herself. She wondered when, if ever, she would be able to truly just... rest, without having to be so careful of everything she did—without having to look over her shoulder for the next one waiting to stab her in the back. Somehow though, she couldn't help but feel, if not safe, then less at threat, less like she had such a heavy weight on her shoulders... here, laying in this bed, away from everyone she knew and in a practical stranger's apartment. It wasn't a particularly rational thought, she knew, given her suspicions, and perhaps it was simply exhaustion, but, somehow, as she lay down on the bed, she couldn't help but remember Elisa Maza's eyes again the first time she'd seen them tonight. The look in those eyes, then and after... somehow Dominique just couldn't, on an emotional level, bring herself to really distrust the woman, no matter that it might well make all the sense in the world to.

As she fell off to sleep, she scoffed at herself for being so foolish... about mooning over the woman's eyes and her smile and, well, other things about her, if nothing else... She actually felt herself blushing a little, having caught herself thinking that. Nonetheless though, she felt herself relax more than she would have liked, and, when she slept, she slept soundly and deep.

* * *

( to be continued )

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	5. Alone In The Night

**Brave... Part 5: Alone In The Night**

* * *

Across the hall, Elisa was just going into her own bedroom after feeding Cagney and making herself a small cup of peppermint tea. She was hours past tired, but tea before bed was a ritual for her. She'd had a cup of it almost every night for years, only varying the varieties every now and then...

She sat her tea cup down on her dresser and noticed Cagney padding softly in and jumping up on her favorite chair, curling up into a ball, and starting to doze contentedly. Elisa wondered, not for the first time, what life must be like for a cat. She wondered if everything was a mystery to be solved, or an adventure to be had, even mundane things. Cagney sometimes left that impression, though sometimes not. Cagney was a house cat after all, and fond of her comforts.

She got undressed next and then took a last sip of tea and went to bed, not feeling like finishing off the cup. She reached over and turned off the light on the nightstand and then snuggled in for sleep. Images of glowing red eyes, of Dominique, played across her mind's eye. She was too tired to really try to figure out how she felt about it all, but, somehow, the idea that there were mysteries out there in the world for her to solve that she'd had no idea were even real, and that one of them was sleeping in the bed just across the hall, was a comforting one.

She'd gotten to thinking lately that maybe life had shown her all it had to offer and she would just have to learn to live with it.

Now, well, maybe this was proof that that wasn't true after all?

* * *

A ways across town and some minutes before, at Manhattan General Hospital, a registered nurse named Rebecca Montagne pealed bloody surgical gloves from her hands, untied the fastening on her scrubs behind her back, put them in the disposal bin, and moved to wash her hands in silence. She felt so tired... Not just physically tired, but emotionally, soulfully tired...

Some days it was... just a lot to take. "You sure you won't come out with us tonight, Montagne?" Asher Hastings asked, yawning as he stretched out his body a little. Hastings had been the anesthetist on the last surgery she'd been assisting on. A victim from a three-car wreak that had happened just ten blocks away. She hated it when they couldn't save one. She really damned well _hated_ it. She wondered about the woman. Her name had been Jennifer Lane—she wondered about Jennifer Lane's _life_. What had she been, _who_ had she been, that she now _wasn't_ anymore...? Logically, even medically, she knew she should change her mind and say _yes_. Go out with friends from work and _talk_, or even _not_ talk about her day. It would be the emotionally healthy thing to do.

"Thanks Hastings, really. Another time though, alright?" She said instead of what she should have said. So much for emotional heath.

"I'll hold you to it, don't think I won't..." He said, heading out into the hallway. He paused before going though. "Take care of yourself, Beccs, okay?"

She smiled to him. "I will. Thanks. And, hey, you too, alright?"

"Who, me?" He joked. "Never worry about people like me, Montagne. You know we just sleepwalk through life anyway."

She laughed a little, despite that it was a hopelessly awful quip that he'd told her once before.

She looked around the room, out onto the operating bay. There were a few orderlies in there, cleaning up and disinfecting things. She and Asher had been the last ones of the surgical team out. She'd had to stay to help with and coordinate the body transfer, while Asher had stayed to square away his equipment again. She stood there watching the cleanup for a few long moments, then shook herself out of her trance when one of the orderlies caught her eye and gave her a questioning look. She gave him a reassuring smile and a wave and then turned to leave.

She went to grab a shower and a fresh set of clothes then.

Sitting on the bench in the locker room drying her hair once she'd showered and dressed, she tried to stop thinking about what she was still thinking about. She was lonely though. She didn't have many friends, and it was hard to have a love life with the hours she kept, the somewhat limited dating pool of the local lesbian night clubs, and the fact that she wasn't even close to a being a one-night-stand type of person. She didn't want to be out with people who only knew her as a coworker, or out trying and failing again to find _the one for her_ at a bar somewhere, she... she wanted to talk with someone who knew _her_. She wanted to... She wanted to feel a connection, she guessed. She sighed.

She knew it was late, but, if she knew Elisa...

She dug around the purse she kept in her locker for a few quarters and, finding them, closed her locker and went to the payphone across the room.

She dropped the quarters in the slot and dialed the long familiar number.

One ring, two, a third, then the line was answered, and Elisa's yawning voice came clear over the line.

"Hello?" Elisa greeted tiredly. She'd almost been asleep, and her thoughts were kind of dazed. She just hoped the ringing phone hadn't woken Dominique. She really should have thought to offer to unplug the phone line in her room before sleep.

"Elisa? ...Hi..." Rebecca answered softly.

"Becca?" Elisa questioned, her mind focusing more at the familiar voice and the emotional and physical fatigue she heard under it.

"Did I wake you?" She asked, feeling instantly guilty if she had. Elisa... Elisa needed all the sleep she could get. What... had she been _thinking_ doing this to her so late?

"Only almost." Elisa hurried to reassure her best friend. "Don't worry about it though. You sound about as beat as I feel. What's wrong?" She asked softly.

Rebecca let out a breath. "Only the usual things I suppose. I just... I guess I was just staved to hear a familiar voice. I'm sorry. Really, I shouldn't have called this late."

"No. No, don't be." Elisa insisted. "Don't ever be sorry for reaching out, okay? It's... It's what I'm here for, alright? Always."

Rebecca felt herself relax markedly at the words. Because she believed them. It was... It was crazy how much that mattered, you know? To have someone who you really _mattered_ to? Who'd really, truly, _hurt_ if you were gone? Who'd just... be on your side, come when you called, no questions asked. Elisa was that person for her. She didn't really have anyone else. Except her mom, she guessed. But... her mom needed a lot more than she could give these days, ever since Ben had died anyway. Her brother, Ben. That's... how she and Elisa had met, actually. Elisa had caught her brother's killer. Owen Kelly... Ben had... been having an affair with his wife... Ben had never been all that smart about things like that, about knowing where the stop signs were in life. Owen Kelly had murdered them both and tried to make it look like a home invasion gone wrong... "Alright... Thanks Elisa." She offered the heartfelt words.

Elisa smiled softly to herself. "So, are you going to tell me about it? These usual things of yours?"

"I can do that." Rebecca answered, smiling. She mentally sighed to herself though. _Why_, she wondered, hadn't they been able to make it work as a couple?

They both needed someone in their life, after all. They both _cared_. Maybe... maybe it was time to see if Elisa would be open to trying again?

* * *

It was getting late into the evening as Jason Langston showed himself into his employer's office. "You wanted to see me?" He asked.

David Xanatos, who'd been gazing out at the night sky from the chair behind his desk, turned and met his eyes. He had a lot on his mind tonight, but making time for his head of security was something he had to do. "I did, in fact." He replied, standing and walking around his desk to lean back against the front of it. "You remember that matter we discussed the other day, regarding Dominique Destine?" He questioned.

"I do." Jason replied, coming closer. He was one of the very few people his employer had trusted to know the secret of her nature—that she was, in truth, a gargoyle—creatures thought by most of the world to be less than even a myth. Something Jason had already been well aware of since he was a young boy... Not that he'd ever let on, of course.

"Well, it seems I may have... pushed things with her more than a little too far this time. Truth be told, I rather think I've put my life in danger." He admitted.

Jason smirked a little. "What, again?" He joked. It was hardly the first death threat the man had received under his watch, but it _was_ the one he was planning to take the most seriously.

David laughed. "I know—I've never been accused of playing it safe, have I?" He asked. "But, as my head of personal security, I should think you'd be grateful that I keep your life interesting. World travel, danger at every turn, world-spanning conspiracies, ancient myths brought to life? So many people in your profession live such dreadfully maudlin and unremarkable lives, and here I've saved you from all that, haven't I?"

"I suppose you have at that, sir." Jason answered. "I'll make sure everything's in place and reach out to my contacts—ask them to keep an ear out for chatter in the right circles... Do you think it would help if I paid her a visit to see if I can smooth things over a bit?" He was more than just the man who coordinated Xanatos's personal security, he was also often his front man—taking meetings for him when there was a need, or representing his interests in any number of other ways. Often a dangerous job in its own right.

David shrugged, seeing the advantages of that, but not wanting to _order_ Jason to do it—he'd found it very often paid to let people at least maintain the illusion that they were making their own choices, all the while positioning himself to take best advantage. "...I'd advise you to be cautious in your approach, but I don't see why you shouldn't try." Her reaction to Jason might well give him a better read on the situation, in fact. It had been a disturbing thing to realize: that Dominique had_ several_ contingency plans for his death, and yet more plans to seize and cannibalize his company after his untimely demise. What was more: through well-concealed proxies, she'd been weakening his company's positions on several fronts for _months_ now, and he hadn't even _suspected_ she'd been behind it until Nick had brought him the proof. He wanted to believe that her recent moves against him had only been business, and that her plans for his death had only been contingences that she'd had no intention of using unless provoked... It was true, he'd tried several less than ethical tactics to put her under his control and to manipulate her into trusting and valuing him enough to offer him the secret of her immortality. He'd even gone so far as to secretly abduct a gargoyle from her Guatemala clan, which he was still holding prisoner even now, on the off chance that there would be some clue to her extreme longevity in gargoyle physiology to point the way. The kidnapping had been months ago though. His experiments had been mostly fruitless as of yet, but there had been no indication that Dominique suspected him of it. _Had_ she suspected though, and simply not let on until she could learn where he was keeping the gargoyle prisoner? Perhaps... And yes, perhaps as well it might have been sheer hubris on his part to assume that he had had what it took to manipulate a thousand year old member of another species into doing what he wanted, into _seeing_ him as indispensable, as a trusted friend, when he knew himself to... possibly be incapable of being that, to anyone. Now he suspected he'd never even gotten _close_ to winning her... That he'd misjudged her so badly, it had been a jarring thing to realize. Still... to quote another ambitious man who's reach had exceeded his grasp: _Alea iacta est_—the die had very much been cast. He only hoped he could prove himself Cesar's better...

"I will then." Jason replied. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me what exactly you did to earn such a... precipitous sort of reprisal from her, would you?" He ventured. From everything he knew of the woman, it hardly came as a surprise to him that she'd dirty herself by hiring assassins, or by engaging in outright murder with her own two hands for that matter, but the Demon was nothing if not a canny and clever foe. For her to act in this fashion, Xanatos must either be standing in her way somehow, or have made himself a danger to her and her ilk. It would be more than worth his time to find out which of those it was—all the better to use the information towards his own ends in all of this.

David sighed. "Let's just say that that I didn't much like the way things seemed to be headed between us, and I thought it prudent to attempt to effect a positive outcome for myself—sooner, rather than later. We've always had a mutually beneficial arrangement between us, but she's never been as forthcoming with me as I'd have liked, and, apparently, I've never been able to manage to win her trust..."

"Huh. Imagine that. And I suppose that's all the details you'll see fit to give me?" He asked.

David shook his head. "You don't want to know—trust me on this, Jason." He warned, pushing off from his desk and walking closer to him.

The trouble was, of course, that he very much _did_ want to know, and _barely_ trusted the man in front of him as far as he could throw him. Still, he knew when to push his luck and when to hold his tongue. "Don't I always?" He asked.

"So far: yes, you have. That either shows that you're a far better judge of character than most, or that you're more naïve than I'd like." He remarked offhand. _Or_, he added to himself, _that you're lying to me_. "Let's hope for my sake it's the former, and not the latter, shall we?" He was mostly teasing. Mostly. But this matter with Dominique had left him with considerably less trust than he'd had before in his own judgment of other's character and motivations. Perhaps Jason Langston deserved more scrutiny from him—perhaps a lot of people did.

Jason laughed. "On that, I think we can agree." He offered. Not that he'd missed the subtle warning in what his employer has just said—he hadn't, not even a little. "Will there be anything else then, sir?"

"No, nothing more for tonight." David replied. "Go, be paranoid on my behalf."

"My honor to serve." Jason quipped as he turned and left.

* * *

( to be continued )

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	6. Dance With A Handsome Stranger

**Brave... Part 6: Dance With A Handsome Stranger**

* * *

Getting out of the elevator a half hour later, the building's guard bolstered and all the reasonable precautions taken, Jason smiled when he saw the woman in the lobby. She was beautiful. She turned and returned his smile and his heart leapt and his breath caught all over again, just like the first time. "Anna." He spoke a little reverently as he came up to her and they shared an unhurried kiss. She just fit against him, took away every bit of stress and worry, made the day seem a far off, unimportant thing.

"Hi love..." She told him, gazing up into his eyes.

"You are such a sight for sore eyes." He told her, running a hand through her hair. "Shall we go?" He asked.

"Lead the way." She agreed, giving him another peck on the lips before taking his hand in hers.

They walked over to the elevators and he pressed the down button for them. His car would be in the parking structure below the building. She'd have taken a cab here, like she usually did. She didn't own a car—a common enough thing in Manhattan, he took it. Anna's job was at a non-profit nearby, working to preserve world heritage sites.

They were kissing again as the elevator doors closed. Anna Kates had been and still was a revelation to him in so many ways. They'd met at a local high-end pub. She'd been there with a few friends from work. He'd been feeling low and alone that night. Things with his brother and sister weren't what they once had been. Out of necessity, they all led very different lives now... or, not so different, really, when you got down to it, but _separate_. John was solid enough, but he had doubts about his sister—more by the day it seemed sometimes.

When Anna had walked up to him and smiled to him, he'd instantly forgotten all of that. She'd introduced herself and told him he looked like a man who'd had a hard day. They'd ended up talking long into the night and, by the end of it, her work friends had all wondered off and he'd offered to give her a drive home. They'd kissed on her front porch and he'd asked her out for the next Saturday. She'd accepted and they'd gotten to be a couple in a surprisingly short length of time. They'd actually moved in together a few weeks ago, and he hadn't regretted it a minute since.

He'd even entertained the idea of proposing marriage, but... the state of his life. Honestly, he felt guilt enough having brought her into it—having allowed someone like her anywhere _near_ him... He just hadn't had it in him to turn her away.

Soon enough, they were down to the garage, out to his car parked close by, and driving out into traffic. "So, are you going to tell me what has your eyes so sore, or is that one of your many corporate secrets?" She teased him a little.

He laughed. "Oh, it's a secret, and it's corporate, but, if you really want to know: all it amounts to is the ever-irrepressible David Xanatos having gotten on the wrong side of the wrong woman." He glanced over at her as he brought them to a stop at a traffic light. "A sin, I assure you, I'm far too wise a man to ever commit myself."

She laughed. "Are you, really?" She asked lightly. "Well, then, I suppose I'm a wise woman too, for having snagged you for my very own, Jason Langston."

* * *

David Xanatos wondered from his office towards the elevator some hour or so after his meeting with Langston, thoughts in turmoil. He found himself thinking of Nick then, and simply looking forward to spending the night with him.

To say that Nick Blackfeather had been a surprising development in his life would be an undeniable sort of understatement. They'd met at a charity gala a few months ago. Nick had come up to him and chatted him up. He'd been confident about it too, his eyes an invitation and his smile an easy temptation. When Nick had asked him to dance, David had found himself agreeing.

Before Nick, he'd never been attracted to men that he'd been aware of, but he'd always been open minded and adaptable... and Nick had appealed to him. He'd been so easy to talk with. Talking with him had been like a fencing match—one that was decidedly all in fun, but also very serious in some of the best ways. And dancing with him...? _That_ had been an experience. With all the women he'd danced with in his life, the movements of the dance had been as simple as to be nearly thoughtless. With Nick, it had felt as much the fencing match as their conversation... or, perhaps, less a fencing match by that point than a negotiation? Nick had wanted him, and been pursuing him. David had decided to accept the advance, but terms had been needed, terms that favored him. Later that evening, when they'd found a quiet moment alone together, they'd kissed, and it had been like... signing the contract—an agreement towards a mutual exploration of what might come of things between them.

Their dance had been something of a spectacle, of course, he considered as he boarded the elevator up to his private rooms, but the press hadn't been in attendance that night, and not much had come of it. They'd kept things discrete after that, at David's insistence. It wasn't a battle he particularly wanted to fight at the moment: garnering any sort of public acceptance. The _public_, in his considered opinion, were largely fools that it wasn't worth his time to combat. He and Nick had dated for a time, Nick soon trusting him with his secrets: that he was actually a Haida sorcerer with no small level of magical ability at his disposal. It had only made him all the more intensely appealing as a paramour.

The Haida were a people native to Queen Florence Island, a reserve off the coast of British Columbia. His birth name had been Natsilane, but he'd chosen to shorten it to Nick when he'd left his people to make his way in the modern world (a history David found he could very much identify with, being the son of a poor fisherman himself). Nick was a Harvard graduate, but he'd also kept his people's heritage in his heart, and their magic. He'd studied that, and the magics of other peoples too.

David had known magic existed of course, he'd made a study of it. In fact his inquiries were what had led Nick to seek him out apparently, but magic had become a rare thing to find in the world. Nick had opened that world up to him in ways it hadn't been before. Nick was brilliant. Brilliant, charming, fun, challenging... and, he'd have to admit, very attractive. He'd come to enjoy the man's body much more than he might have thought himself capable of. That was, perhaps, another world, another perspective, that Nick had opened up to him.

He'd moved his lover in with him months ago, giving him the job title of _personal assistant_, for public and accounting purposes. At first, it had been a diversion for him, or he'd told himself that's all it had been. Then he'd told himself that Nick was a valuable resource for him—and he was that, surely... but he was realizing more and more that it had become so much more than that... That he'd fallen for this man somewhere along the way, at least to the extent he was capable of that... David knew himself not to be good man—no, there were few enough of those in existence. More that _thought_ they were good, thought they were the heroes of their own stories. But he'd come to the conclusion that heroes died pointless deaths and good men led miserable lives on fishing boats somewhere as the rest of the world picked at their souls like buzzards with a bone. He was simply a man who refused to let the rest of humanity limit or victimize him, or tell him what or who he needed to be. He supposed that made him selfish, at least to a large degree. And maybe that's all it was with Nick? That Nick was good for him, in any number of ways, and so he valued that highly, as anyone with any good sense would. Was it more than that? Did he have enough faith in his own potential for change, or in humanity's capacity to transcend its limitations that he could let himself believe that it might be? Time might tell, he supposed—especially if he did manage to attain the immortality he sought. He'd come to realize though that he did want a life with him—with Nick—one of what permanence he could carve out for them.

He wanted that, and he was a man that got what he wanted. He would have Nick—it wasn't a question for him... There _was_ something standing in the way though. Nick was keeping something from him, he'd known that almost from the start. He hadn't pushed. He understood secrets, and that, large or small, everyone had them... but he would have Nick's. He would have _Nick_. If not now, then someday soon. It wasn't something he wanted to _take_ though, it was something he wanted to be given. He wanted it to be a seduction... He wanted it to be something he _earned_.

Privately, he suspected Nick had ambitions of his own that he hadn't shared yet. His best guess was that he wanted to make his people a financial power in the world—to take back some of the dignity and freedoms that had been taken from them. In what ways though? And what was he willing to do to see it through? ...For all Nick's other qualities, there was also a darkness in him. David couldn't deny that it was there... He only hoped he'd be able to live with it, or temper it, when it finally came to light.

The elevator came to a smooth stop and the door opened. David's eyes widened as he stepped forward. Before him, two men were dead on the floor. Nick was there, grappling with a third. He saw Nick stab the man in the belly with a knife, heard the cry, then saw the laser sight flash from above. He flung himself back into the elevator as the shots fired. He felt the sharp stinging pain as a bullet tore through his left arm like paper. He didn't have time to worry about that though. He got to the hidden panel in the elevator and took out one of the many firearms he had secreted around the building in strategic spots for situations like this, the hiding places keyed to his own biometrics.

Another shot fired and David sprung from hiding, rolling to the side despite that it was agony to do it on his injured arm, only to see the sniper bursts into flames. Nick was chanting something in Haida. Their attacker screamed and flailed and fell from the second floor landing where he and Nick's bedroom was, down to crash onto a glass coffee table.

"Is that all of them do you think?" David asked, moving towards his lover, his gun still raised as he scanned the room.

"I'm not sure." Nick answered. "Somehow, I don't think the night's mischief is through yet."

David heard something, he realized. The building was largely soundproofed, so he shouldn't hear _anything_—not unless it was loud and close. He recognized the sound after a second. "Helicopter." He warned, even as Nick turned and rushed him, knocking him to the ground with a painful thud.

Something hissed low and crashed through the windows. David only had a split second to realize that it was the sound of a rocket launcher being fired from the helicopter he'd heard, before the world around him went white and shook violently.

He should be dead—they _both_ should. He blinked open his eyes though. Nick was above him, pressed in against him provocatively, meeting his eyes with an open, powerful intensity as his lover chanted softly to him in Haida ...Nick was protecting them, David realized as he stared, transfixed, into his lover's dark, seductively dangerous eyes.

There was a second explosion, and, again, the world seemed to rock and go bright outside of their cocoon... but, inside, they were safe. David somehow felt it—that he would always be safe in this man's arms... allowing that David didn't betray the trust they had built... and that was such a strange thing to realize that he hardly knew what to make of it. A part of him thought he just might want to resent Nick for it, if he didn't want to make love to him repeatedly far more than that at the moment. David felt himself get so hard... His heart was beating in his chest so fast from adrenaline, and the sound of Nick's voice, the force of his eyes, and the sure, powerful pressure of his body... in was electric. David found himself smiling a devil may care sort of smile, and he knew most people would probably tell him he was touched in the head for getting off on a situation like this.

The moments of intense intimacy had seemed to stretch between them into something almost outside of time, but David knew it could only have been a minute or so, and then the world went quiet and Nick stopped his soft chanting. "You've been hurt." Nick spoke.

David reached a hand up, his right hand, and cupped the back of Nick's head, forcing him down for a heated kiss. He felt Nick get very hard against him at that, and loved the feel of it. Loved that he had the power to get him hot like that. Loved the feel of Nick's body pressing down along the length of his.

When the kiss broke, Nick laughed. "You're very good at that, you know?" He complimented, a playful smile on his lips.

"What? Kissing you?" David asked.

"That too. But no—I meant that you're very good at... surprising me." He admitted. Looking down into his lover's eyes, Nick (who was truthfully Raven, of course) wanted to tell him how much of a _treasure_ that was to him. There were always surprises, of course. During autumn, for instance, you could watch any tree you cared to and the timing of every leaf's fall would be a surprise... utterly unpredictable... but you always knew the leaf would fall, and you always knew, assuming the tree was not felled or infected with rot, that you would could be surprised again nearly as many times again the next year. But, then, there were surprises... and then there were _surprises_.

"Likewise." David replied a little breathlessly, as Nick pushed up from him, getting up and looking around, offering him a hand up too. "And... thank you, for saving my life. It seems you really are very handy to have around."

Nick laughed. "It's been longer than you might guess since someone's said something like _that_ about me. I think I'm flattered."

"Oh... you should be. You very much should be." David admitted, looking around at the destruction—the partially burnt out husk—that his rooms had become. "Well, I knew she'd respond. I have to admit, I didn't think she'd treat Manhattan like a third world country though."

Nick smiled. "In matters of life and death, I think it's probably always a good idea to assume that someone fighting for their lives will go to extremes. I very _certainly_ would."

David sighed. "Except, of course, that the woman in question cannot die... At least, not under any circumstances of which I'm aware." He observed, looking at the destruction around them again.

Nick gazed at him tolerantly. "Imagine you did gain the immortality you wanted: do you think you'd be _more_ or _less_ afraid of perpetually living that life in chains and misery than you were afraid of death when you'd been mortal?"

David looked back to him. "You make a good point." He was forced to admit. Not that he'd necessarily intended on doing that to Dominique, unless she gave him no other choice in the matter... but _she_ didn't know that, did she?

Security personnel streamed in from the stairway entrance. Keith Redding, the building's head of security at this time of night, coming over to check on him as his subordinates formed a defensive perimeter. Most likely it was a wasted effort by this point. The assassins in the helicopter would have assumed he'd died in the blast and made their escape.

David would be curious to see what Langston had to say about all of this though. True, an attacker usually had several natural advantages over a defender, and it would have been beyond the resources David had currently allocated him to defend the building from a man in a helicopter with a _rocket launcher_, but that four men had breached building security and made it into his suite of rooms undetected _was_ quite worrisome.

It meant that either those four men had had inside help, or that Dominique Destine had someone very dangerous indeed on her payroll...

* * *

Anna was in the living room area of their apartment, sitting on the floor at the coffee table, papers and files and a laptop before her as she talked on the phone with someone in Swedish. She had a gift for languages and could, apparently, speak fifteen of them. Jason found himself just absently listening to the sound and cadence of her voice as she gently cajoled some poor soul to see matters her way. She was an impressive woman, in pretty much any respect he'd care to name, and he'd often wondered just how he'd gotten lucky enough to have her for his own.

He was in the kitchen, cooking a meal for them. He usually ended up doing the cooking, or they'd order in, because probably the one and only flaw Anna seemed to have was that she was all but hopeless in the kitchen. She could make a few things passably, but he could tell she found it an annoyance to even try, so he'd taken to being the cook between them. She always appreciated what he made, enjoying it and complimenting him for it sincerely.

Finished with the potatoes, he put them in the oven, checked on the beef and vegetable stew, and, satisfied, made to start setting the plates and such out for them. As he was getting a pair of glasses down, Anna ended her call. He went to the sink to fill the glasses with water, planning on taking them over to Anna and sitting with her a while as the food cooked, when his own telephone rang. It was a cellular, one of the newer models. He snatched it up from the counter and answered. "Langston here."

"Jason, it's Keith. There's been an attack." Keith Redding was his shift supervisor at the Eyrie building tonight. They'd just talked a little over an hour and a half ago. "You need to get down here—now."

"On my way." He looked up and met Anna's eyes. She stood.

"Go." She told him, recognizing the dark look he was sure had come over him. "I'm sure I can manage not to burn the place down while you're gone." She assured him.

That made him pause a moment, imagining just what he might be walking into. He nodded to Anna. "Thanks, love." He told her with quiet appreciation, hurrying to get his jacket and be out the door.

"Situation?" He asked Keith as he hurried down the brownstone he and Anna lived in's front steps, heading for his car.

"I won't lie." Keith said. "It's worse than you're thinking, but we think the active threat's past. We're locking down and searching the building, getting Mr. Xanatos to a secure location until he can be moved off-site... Blackfeather's coordinating things." He warned.

"...Brilliant." He muttered to himself.

What the hell had he let happen over there anyway?

* * *

Out over the water, Jericho Lockland looked out of the helicopter he was riding in and saw the police helicopters falling back to a safe distance.

He shook his head and smiled ruefully. "And hasn't this just been a fine day's outing?" He muttered to himself. He really had hoped that the men he'd sent into the building would do the job and he wouldn't have had to resort to something so damned_ showy_, but, alas, time had not been on his side, and life had a mind of its own most days, now didn't it? He turned, patted his pilot, Callum Abrams, on the shoulder. "Good luck, boyo! This is my stop, I'm afraid!" He called to him over the noise. He didn't look back as he jumped out of the helicopter and down into the cold, dark waters below.

His midnight black parachute opened up and he looked off into the distance at Callum's helicopter. As he'd thought, an incoming missile from an approaching Airforce F/A-18 Hornet fighter jet was seconds away from impact. The shot hit, an AIM-7 Sparrow, he'd guess, and Callum went up in a fireball. No second chute.

He felt badly for the man, but Callum had known the risks. They all had. This was the life he led.

When he got close enough to the water, he put on his diving mask and cut the parachute lines, falling the rest of the way.

The authorities would find no useful traces of him, and they'd have no way of tracing tonight's attack on the Eyrie Building back to him or his employer—of that he'd made very sure.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	7. Light Up The Night

**Brave... Part 7: Light Up The Night**

Note: This chapter and the next are where you get to know Dominique's clan. The story switches from one perspective to another among the five other adult members, and it also takes place concurrently with some of the events in the previous chapters. These two chapters follow a loosely progressive timeline of their own, but there will be some minor overlap between the five perspectives. You'll be able to use the clarion scroll being burned as a touchstone though, because all five of them will experience it. You'll also recognize events like the attack on the Eyrie building, Lockland's helicopter fleeing the scene, and Dominique calling Vercinix, and those cues should further help to keep the story's timeline clear in your mind as well. After these two chapters, the story will also check in on other characters too, before circling back to Elisa and Dominique, but I don't think you'll have any trouble following along on those.

* * *

Gliding across the city, Obsidiana saw the fireball in the distance and she alighted down on the roof of a nearby building to gaze at it. She watched, eyesight keen, as a helicopter fled the scene. "The Eyrie Building..." She spoke softly to herself, feeling a chill of dread at the thought.

She saw police helicopters scramble and give chase. She stepped off the building ledge and glided off after them to continue to watch what transpired. She wasn't as fast as the human-made flying vehicles of course, but she could still see far in the distance when a man jumped from the fleeing helicopter moments before it was shot from the sky by the a fighter jet from the nearby air force base. She came up short, shivering a little as she found another place to land.

She looked back towards the scene of the attack and wondered if her leader had finally acted against the human who'd lived there. It would be for the best if she had...

She considered going home, but she'd come out to think tonight. Dominique... She still ached inside for the loss of her. She... missed being with her, missed _touching_ her, missed _being_ touched that way... She closed her eyes. She wondered all over again... what she'd done wrong, and how she hadn't been enough? She'd thought she'd finally found someone that could... take her loneliness away.

She looked down at her wrist, at the bracelet she wore there. Vercinix had given it to her when she and Dominique had become close, so she could follow her out among the humans when she became one of them. Such a strange and disturbing thing... to become something other than who she'd always been. It was still hard to reconcile—all of it was, as far as humans went. She hated them, but the thought of being like them, being as violent as they were, disgusted her to her core... and she'd made herself one of them. She'd... even become friends with one of them. _Robyn_... She hadn't seen her, not since Dominique had ended things. She hadn't used the bracelet since, not even once.

But... she hadn't given it back to Vercinix either, and he hadn't asked. He'd rarely used it in any case, she supposed, but she preferred to think that his not asking was more because he believed that she and Dominique would reconcile eventually, rather than simple disinterest on his part. _She_ preferred to think that they would reconcile eventually as well... She only wished it would happen at least a little sooner than the term _eventually_ would seem to imply...

She'd had a lover once before having met Dominique. Her name had been Turquesa. They'd known each other since birth, but it hadn't been... They hadn't been a good match. As lovers, they'd made bad friends, as Zafiro had once observed of them. She hadn't known why, or what had been missing... that is, until she'd met Dominique Destine. Until she'd made love with her... and now, she had no words for how much she _missed_ the way that had made her feel... The closest she could come would be to say that, when she and Dominique had been together, she'd felt... like she really, truly belonged somewhere, and with some_one_...

She closed her eyes and stood, feeling the wind for several long moments, letting her thoughts drift away on the air.

She opened her eyes and pushed up in a jump, her wings catching the current and carrying her aloft.

She didn't want to be alone after all, she decided. She wanted clan—she wanted to be home.

A few moments later, Dominique's image formed in her mind's eye, telling her to head home now to help defend the mansion, that there might be danger coming. Griff or Vercinix must had used one of the clarion scrolls Una had made for them—once burned, the scroll would show a spoken message to anyone whose blood had been mixed into the ink used to write the spell. In this case, Una, Leo, Griff, Vercinix, Dominique, and herself would all receive the message at once. It was a one way communication however. She couldn't reply. She had a cellular telephone of course, all of them took one when they left to venture out into the city, but the use of one of the clarion scrolls meant that she wasn't to use the cellular for worry that it could be spied upon.

She angled her wings to coax as much speed out of her glide path that she could, mind whirling with old, remembered terrors that she fervently hoped would not be repeated tonight...

* * *

A tall, regal woman, long blonde hair streaked with white, accompanied by an only slightly taller, equally regal man, his long mane of graying dusky blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, walked among a crowd exiting a late presentation of Mike Oldfield's _Tubular Bells II_. The crowd washed around them and the woman looked about the plaza, a little caught by the experience of it. She and her husband had done this sort of thing before, but... to walk among them like this, one of them—she doubted she would ever grow used to it. She doubted too whether she would ever feel easy about the deception, either. A part of her stubbornly felt that she was disgracing herself, putting on a charade like this. But it was an old feeling that she should be long accustomed to by now. She'd felt much the same about the pretense they'd affected back in London, pretending to be eccentric shopkeepers wearing masks and costumes and using small glamour spells to ensure no one looked too closely or thought too deeply about the lie.

Leo watched her fondly, but with old worry in his eyes. He squeezed her hand a little and Una looked to him, meeting his gaze. They each saw the struggle in each other's eyes. "It was a beautiful performance..." He spoke, his voice low.

Her husband's voice sent a thrill of sensory experience through her. The music had affected her, she was forced to admit. The romance of it. And the allure of being... one among many. "Oh, my love..." She sighed, stepping into him and laying her head on his shoulder as he wrapped her up in his strong embrace. They stood like that for a long moment, until Una pulled back and gazed into his eyes once more. "It was beautiful, but only so much so because I am with you." She told him, cupping his jaw. She felt the truth of the fur, and the illusory skin both at once. The talismans she'd fashioned that let them take on human seeming only transformed them so much. Their true selves shone through in some ways, particularly to each other. It wasn't nearly the full transformation Titania's bracelets could give. The magic could be dispelled by anyone looking too closely at them and disbelieving what they saw. She wasn't nearly as skilled at such spells as she might wish to be. As she _would be_, one day soon, she stubbornly told herself. Still, she preferred her own magic to that of the bracelets. Her enchantment only cast a thin seeming over them with only a fragile physicality. It left her and her husband less vulnerable, as they retained their strength and the sharpness of their claws this way, and could revert to their true selves with only a thought. It also kept them more_ themselves_, which she appreciated.

Leo felt the caress, felt Una's closeness, and bent in for a kiss. Una's lips met his and they took their time with each other. The kiss was a singular experience, not only for the inherent romance and beauty of it, but for the doubling effect the glamour had on them. It felt both at once as though he were kissing Una as they really were, and kissing her as though they were both truly human. It shouldn't be exactly possible, because their human seemings and their true gargoyle bodies were constructed so differently. It made his head hurt a little sometimes to think of things like this in fact, but whether he understood it or whether it should be able to happen really made no difference. It _was_ happening. It was... magic.

The kiss finished, Leo asked if Una would like to walk the distance home with him, instead of fly or take a cab. They had the time, so Una easily agreed, meaning to treasure this time she had to be alone with the one she loved and have nothing more to do than simply enjoy his company.

Sometime later, as they were walking through central park, Leo sensed the humans before they sprung their ambush, surrounding them, knives drawn. "Nice night for a walk. You fine folks enjoying yourselves?" One of the men asked, a hard, bitter edge to his voice.

Leo stepped forward. "I'll give you a fair chance. Leave off now, or I'll make you regret it." He told them, a deep vibrancy in his voice that was something other than human.

"Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen." The same man replied.

Leo was at him then, grabbing his wrist, crushing it in his hand to make him drop his knife, pulling him forward, hefting him up off his feet, and tossing him into another of the attackers.

Una stepped aside as a man lunged at her with his knife, punching him in the jaw. She heard Leo cry out in pain as one of the knives found his ribs. He roared in fury and backhanded the man who'd struck him with a closed fist.

Una felt a cold fury go over her. How _dare_ they do this? What gave them any _right_? The men had been driven back by Leo's roar and she backed into him, taking his hand in hers. She thrust her other hand into the air, and cast her spell. "_In summum ignem..._" She spoke in a solemn, soft voice. It sickened her to do this, but she would never let anyone harm any of her clan, her beloved least of all. She would take no more chances with his safety this night.

The spell cast, the words vibrating through the air in an otherworldly sort of way, the fire came, flaring out around them in whisper silent circles, sweeping then men away. Their enemies had no time to cry out—one moment they were there, the next only ash on the breeze..._ End in fire_, the words to the spell she'd spoken had meant.

Una gasped, letting go of her husband and sinking to her knees on the ground, her hand burned, her transformation to human seeming destabilizing and fading away. She'd used a hand-made bracelet as a focus for her spell, and the bracelet was gone now, burned away.

"Una, love... How bad is it?" Leo asked.

"Stupid." She said. "Stupid that we came this way. Stupid that I... I've never attempted that spell before. I'm sorry." Una told him. The spell had been one of her own making. She had a number of books with spells written in them, a goodly number of which she could cast safely, but she'd been experimenting with imbuing objects with magic, in the same way the humans who had once befriended Obsidiana's tribe had learned to do. If she could master it—give her clan magical weapons in objects that they could carry with them—it would be one more way for her to be of use to her clan, to keep them safe... So far though, she'd only managed a few successes, like the charm that had let them temporarily take on human seeming. She would master them one day before she died though, she was determined. It would be her gift to their children—her legacy.

"...You're too hard on yourself by half, I've always said so..." Leo told her by way of offering comfort.

"Maybe I am." She admitted. "Someone needs to be."

There was the sound of a helicopter approaching. The two looked up and saw it cross overhead, Leo letting out a held breath as it passed them by.

"I think that's someone telling us it's time we called it a night, don't you think?" Leo asked.

Una sighed and let him help her to her feet. "Agreed." She admitted, going closer to him, her hand hovering over the gash in his side. "How deep?" She asked.

"Ain't so bad." Leo offered.

"Let me see?" She asked.

As she knelt beside him to have a better look, she stilled as Dominique's visage appeared before her eyes and her skin flushed cold with dread.

"We're needed." Leo spoke solemnly once their sister's message was done.

"Yes." Una replied, closing her eyes momentarily, before opening them again. "You know what I have to do. You know... this will hurt you horribly?" She asked. The warning meant an attack, but not necessarily one on the mansion (it never had been that before, at least), but the chance that their children could be in danger? They couldn't risk it, not on any account.

"Needs must, love. Needs must." He gave her a brash smile Griff would have been proud of and Una felt cheered a bit.

She took out a spool of string from her purse that was tied to a copper ring. She wound it around her beloved's torso, tying the other end fast to the ring. The ring was an ancient artifact Dominique had found for her last year and that she'd since learned how to use, rather than one she'd crafted herself. If she _had_ crafted it herself, she would have attempted to make it hurt not quite so damned much to use the bloody thing. Not that she _could_ make a better alternative to it herself at the moment, of course... but hopefully she would manage it one day. Today wasn't that day though, so, with sorrowful resignation, she bent in and kissed the ring, speaking softly in Irish. "_Craiceann fíor. Geal fola. Chorp ar fad._" She incanted the spell. _Skin true. Blood bright. Body whole._ That's what the words meant. It was the _blood bright_ bit that gave the torment, because enacting this spell... it felt just as though your blood were set to burning...

After a moment, the spell struck and the string seemed to flare with a winding light that built and flashed so brightly that Una had to stumble back and cover her eyes.

Leo roared, falling to catch himself on one knee, breathing hard, panting, eyes unfocused.

"Beloved?" Una asked, going to crouch by him.

"F... Fine. Right as rain." He got out between a clenched jaw.

Una reached to almost touch the place on her husband's side where the wound had been. It was gone now, but Una... had used this particular magic on herself once. She knew full well just how much pain it caused and she hated herself a little for inflicting that on the one she was meant to love—the one she was supposed to be a balm too, not a curse. "I'm sorry." She told him, hurting for him inside, for what she'd just done to him.

He gave her a shaky smile. "We're needed." He told her, all compassion and forgiveness in his tone.

She smiled. "You're far too good for me, I think." She told him.

"Nah. Other way around, love. Exactly the other way 'round." Leo cupped her cheek and gave her a quick kiss which had Una's skin heating a little. Just when she'd thought she couldn't love this man any more, he goes and does something so noble as this?

She bent down and picked up the copper ring, wanting to throw the cursed thing far away into the darkened wood, never to be seen by her again. She put it into her purse though, stood up to her feet and offered her husband a hand up this time.

He took it and shakily got to his feet.

"Can you fly?" She asked, moving to him, touching his cheek as he had hers.

"Yes." Leo said. "And if any threaten our clan this night, they will soon come to sorely regret that fact before the night is out, I assure you."

He took a running start and Una followed after him, the both of them catching the wind in their wings and taking to the air.

* * *

Griff stood by the fountain in the mansion's main clearing, looking off into the trees. The three youngest of their clan, plus Aslan, were out there, seen by him as only flashes between the leaves at times, chasing each other about and generally having a fine time. Even over the din of the city though, he could hear them and know they were well. He wished he could join them in their play, but they were in unfriendly territory—being a gargoyle, he knew, meant that would always be the case... to one extent or another.

Here, on the mansion grounds, they were relatively safe. Dominique, their leader, had purchased this place several years ago now, and outfitted it with the most advanced security measures money could buy. Una, one of the two gargoyles he'd grown up with in London, had also protected their sanctuary with what magical means she could manage. Still, assuming they were safe was something he'd learned early in life wasn't something you did—not ever, not if you wanted to stay alive, and especially not where the clan's children were involved.

So, he kept vigil.

Upstairs, his husband, Vercinix, was training the two oldest of the children in self-defense and grappling. He and his husband were both time-lost, they had that in common. Nevertheless, as much a stranger here as Griff knew himself to be, having skipped forward in time several years and traveled across an ocean to settle in a foreign country, this was still a modern, human, English speaking city, one that looked and felt different only in some ways from the London of his youth. In his husband's case however, the time jump had been far more severe. He and his clan sister, Mendela, had grown up a thousand years ago, been clan brother and sister to Dominique in fact, and been saved by her and a fae princess named Fox from the fall of castle Wyvern, then brought to the modern world by the magic of the Phoenix Gate—an artifact of fae make that was likewise responsible for his own arrival in the modern era.

To have gone from a time when the gargoyle race had still thrived and had been at relative peace with human kind, to now, when only a few clans had survived in hiding or seclusion, all but forgotten by the humans that had nearly been the death of them all? He could hardly imagine the shock of it. Vercinix still managed only just adequate English most days, and rarely left the grounds of their home unless Griff cajoled him into it. His clan sister, Mendela, who'd been granted the ability to change her appearance at will like the fae by Titania, the fae queen, as a reward for risking much on her behalf, came to visit with them only rarely. She and Titania had fallen in love, often tempestuous and seeming fragile as their relationship had been reported to be, and were off doing... who bloody knew what, really. According to Fox, you'd have about as much luck trying to have a plainspoken conversation with Titania as you'd have striking up a conversation with the sky itself. To have lost Mendela's anchoring presence in his life on top of everything else had been a hard blow for his husband, and Griff was still trying to heal the damage. Oh, he still had Dominique, that was true, but she'd been so changed by her unnaturally long life that, well, how much did Vercinix truly recognize the woman any longer? Another thing he could hardly imagine...

He understood falling in love, truly he did, but sometimes... he really did want to give Mendela a piece of his mind for having gone off and abandoned them like she had. And Titania—if the bloody fae queen really had loved her so, couldn't she have seen past her issues with her daughter and Dominique, whatever they were, and made peace for Mendela's sake instead of making her choose?

At length, Arista came bursting out of the woods into the clearing, bounding on all fours across the space towards him, Pegasus, Aslan, and little Kyan trailing after her. Arista looked back, saw them, and climbed up the fountain, to the top. Griff laughed, turning to look up at her. "Queen of all you survey, is that it?"

"Yes! Definitely yes!" Arista giggled. "Come and get me, I dare you!" She called to the two boys.

Pegasus didn't hesitate, he got a determined look on his face and rushed in, going after her. "You won't get away!" He called up.

"Yes I will. You're too slow!" Arista teased him, merriment in her eyes as her and Griff's eyes met a moment. He knew what she was going to do. It was so predictable.

Griff looked over to see Kyan watching the scene, having sat down on the grass to pet a happy Aslan. "Not going to go after them?" He asked. The boy looked to him and Griff saw his own eyes looking back. He was his and Obsidiana's biological son, and it was still a strange but wonderful thing to see himself so much in another gargoyle.

Kyan smiled and shook his head. Not that Griff had really expected any different. Kyan and Aslan were fairly inseparable most of the time, the little boy usually taking his cue from the great big lovable dog.

"Smart lad." He commented.

Pegasus got within tagging distance of his sister, only to have Arista giggle and push off, gliding across the yard back to the patio, winning the round. Pegasus sighed. "I knew she was going to do it too."

"Good you tried anyway though." Griff offered.

"I'll win next time, you'll see." He said, jumping off to go after her, gliding over the lawn in her wake.

"Oh, no doubt." He laughed, scooping up Kyan in his arms and depositing the laughing boy pickaback on his back as he went after the older two, Aslan meandering along at their side.

It was time to head in for a meal anyway.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	8. Home Is A Far Off Shore

**Brave... Part 8: Home Is A Far Off Shore**

* * *

Some five or ten minutes later, Vercinix smiled indulgently as Griff slid strong arms around his waist from behind. "Sickeningly adorable, aren't they?" Griff asked lightly of the clan's children, the three youngest, Aslan in tow, having raced in ahead of him to join the other two, Lunette and Carwyn, by the fountain at the center of Obsidiana's arboretum.

Vercinix shook his head. "I... You cannot mean what that means. Have I told you lately how much I detest English?" It had been years since he'd been brought through to this... modern time, but he still hadn't mastered the language completely. There were so many added words, and words that so often didn't mean what they were supposed to mean, or they meant more than one thing, and the sheer number of colloquialisms, along with the fact that Griff, Leo, and Una spoke a different variation of the language that came with an often very different set of difficulties to contend with... Needless to say: navigating it all was a persistent source of frustration to him. The fact that Obsidiana, who'd joined their clan after he had, had mastered the language rapidly and with seeming ease, did not help matters. Of course, she had known four languages—Guatemalan Spanish, along with three dialects of Mayan (K'iche', Q'eqchi', and Mam)—growing up, while he had only spoken one. According to Una, that would have made the process easier for her...

"Gràdhaiche car lag, nach eil iad?" Griff asked in Scots Gaelic instead.

Vercinix laughed. "Your Gaelic is still worse than my English, gràdh." A fact which did cheer and encourage him somewhat.

"A man does like to put in the effort though, for the one who owns his heart... Does he not?" Griff asked softly, wrapping him up closer in his arms and rubbing heads with him.

"He does..." Vercinix admitted, sighing and relaxing into his beloved's embrace... What he would do without this, he dreaded deeply to consider. Some days, he felt as though he only held to his sanity by a thread... and Griff was that thread for him.

He wanted out of this city, badly. He wanted to go to Guatemala, live there. There, at least, would be open spaces to glide, and a larger community of their own kind, instead of thousands—millions—of humans in metal towers all about... He hadn't yet gotten up the courage to tell Griff, or any of the others about what he wanted yet, and there was a reason for that... Una would never leave Dominique, never abandon what they were trying to do here in this city, Leo would never leave his wife, and Griff... Vercinix very much did not want to ask his husband to leave the clan he'd been with all his life. He knew to his determent what it was like to be denied that, and he wouldn't wish that on any gargoyle, let alone the one he loved... Still, he longed every day for... open skies and simpler times... or, at least, more familiar ones.

There was no good answer for him, he was aware. None that he could see at any rate...

Arista let out a delighted shriek as Lunette tossed her up high into the air. "Catch me sister!" She called, using her wings to dart off out of the arboretum towards the great room and the passage to the lower levels of the mansion beyond (they all knew better than to risk such antics _here_ and tempt Obsidiana's wrath should they damage her garden sanctuary).

Griff was laughing with that easy joy that seemed to live with him as a faithful friend. Vercinix smiled at that, just... treasuring the contentment he felt right at the moment. He took it into himself and determined to keep it in his mind's chest of memories as a reminder of all that was yet good and true about life and clan that had not been fully taken from him after all.

"I do think one of us ought to be off after them, don't you?" Griff proffered. It was a big building with all sorts of valuables and trouble for those two young ones to get into. Arista, especially, Griff mused fondly, didn't have quite the prudence of her brothers and sister. She really did remind him of his younger self at times like this.

"You go." Vercinix offered. "You are far more the old master at such than be I, you cannot deny."

"You know me all too well, my love. Should I bring us back some mutton on my sojourn, do you think?" He asked as he came around and turned to face him even as he walked backwards for a few paces while crossing the room.

"And greens, yes." Vercinix nodded, realizing he was indeed hungry.

"Cheese! Cheddar cheese!" Pegasus called out. "And strawberries!"

"Hamburger!" Carwyn joined in.

"Potatoes!" Kyan added. "Can I help?" He asked.

Griff laughed, sweeping Kyan up onto his shoulders again, much to the boy's delight. "You can be my lookout. How's that then?" He asked.

Kyan cheered as Griff headed out to find the two wayward girls, Aslan following dutifully along.

Griff hadn't been gone more than two or three minutes, Pegasus and Carwyn already engaged in a serious debate about why potatoes weren't a part of hamburgers and whether or not they could make them so with a little ingenuity, when the electrical lighting in the room started to flash. Five pulses, repeated at one minute intervals. Dread gripped him as he recognized the signal. "Children! To the safe room, now!" Vercinix barked the command to Carwyn and Pegasus.

"But-" Pegasus started to protest.

"No argument. Follow my directives now!" He advanced on them, prepared to put them over his shoulders and carry them to safety if he needed to. He'd lived through one home, one clan, being taken from him all in the course of a night, so he well knew that such could happen. Still, he'd be damned if he let that happen to himself or his loved ones ever again.

Carwyn took his younger brother's hand. "Come on." He told him, voice sober.

Pegasus went along after that and Vercinix rushed to the great room to check the security system, the flashing lights ceasing as soon as the system registered that someone had responded to the alert. He trusted Griff would get the other children upstairs as soon as he could.

Nothing.

The cameras and sensors were picking up nothing on the ground and nothing seemed out of sorts on the streets or in the air around them.

Still, he was quick to set the system to level one. After that, he went to a drawer and took out one of the clarion scrolls, setting it in a nearby metal bowl and lighting it to burn. Even as he did, their leader's voice and aspect appeared before his eyes and spoke the warning and the call home to him.

Assured that the others would have received the message as he had and return as swiftly as they were able, he went to check the feeds for Nightstone Unlimited's central security network. No recent incident reports, locally or internationally, that could have triggered the alert to them, though, of course, all company facilities were likewise being placed on high alert as well. The lack of an apparent cause however, meant that it was either an attack on the Guatemalan clan's hidden sanctuary, a warning from one of their leader's allies or agents, or... one from their leader herself. His blood was on a set of clarion scrolls in Guatemala too though, and he hadn't seen any visions from them. More, Dominique had gone out tonight and... she'd been vague about her plans. Oh yes indeed, he had a very bad feeling about this.

Griff came up the stairs and burst through the door, Kyan clinging on his back, Arista in his arms, Aslan and Lunette trailing along after. He shooed Aslan and the children along to the safe room—the central room on this top floor of their five-story mansion. It was where the children slept, and it had the strongest physical, electronic, and magical defenses they could arm it with.

"What's the word?" Griff asked as he came over to Vercinix's side once assured that the children were safe.

"I can't find a cause for the alert." Vercinix told him solemnly.

"...Dominique called it in then, you're thinking?" He asked.

"I am." Vercinix confirmed.

...And so it was, more than a half hour later, Vercinix found himself alone in the fifth floor great room. Griff and Aslan were in with the children, keeping them calm and entertained. Griff had gone back for food for them all too, so they were all well fed by now at least, and that would do much to keep the young ones settled. Their security contingency plans told Vercinix that he couldn't call Dominique's cell phone to simply _ask_ her what this was about... _Humans_, he thought. _They'll be the death of us all yet, I suppose..._

Calls for a security lockdown happened rarely, but this hadn't been the first time. They were called whenever the mansion, the Nightstone headquarters here in Manhattan, the Guatemalan headquarters, or the Guatemalan clan lands came under direct physical attack, under the logic that an attack on one of those locations could portent a coordinated attack against them all. The mansion had yet to ever come under attack, but Nightstone's Manhattan headquarters had been set upon by armed mercenaries answering to one of Dominque's enemies once, and the Guatemalan locations had come under attack a few times. Most seriously, when the Nightstone headquarters there had been targeted by insurgents loyal to a local warlord who'd been staging a persistent guerilla war in the country. Turquesa and Zafiro had been injured then, but the attack had been repelled and, with rest and time, they'd recovered. In each of those cases, Dominique's response had been swift and brutal. Tomas Brod, the man responsible for the Manhattan assault had been killed by an assassin's bullet, his men too, and as for the insurgents in Guatemala... Well, there _were_ no longer _any_ insurgents in Guatemala, or the shrouding region for that matter.

And it was at times like this that he most empathized with all the things his clan sister had done, living through everything she had... A thousand years of this. He could hardly wrap his mind around it... though, he supposed he might one day find himself all too able to, as he and Mendela had been made as immortal as her now, thanks to Fox's magic. He thought again how trapped he felt by all of this. _Humans. _Growing up, he'd never have thought they could have _done_ this to them. Driven them into hiding, hunted them to near extinction. He still struggled to understand _why_... His kind had never been a threat to them. Gargoyles, by nature, protected their home, their clans—they did not conquer, did not kill without need. But then, he wondered, perhaps, if just as it was a gargoyle's nature not to conquer, not to destroy, could it simply be that it was a human's nature _to_ conquer, and to destroy what they could not conquer?

The decision to kill those insurgents in Guatemala sickened him, but neither could he fault Dominique for the necessity of the decision. He was only grateful he was not leader, and such decisions were not his to make. Whether that was because he feared he would be unable to make them, or feared that he would become too _eager_ to make them, he did not know. Neither did he know which possibility was more frightening to consider.

In the midst of troubled thoughts, a ring sounded.

Vercinix rushed to pick up the telephone and answer it. "Hello?" He spoke into the receiver.

"It's me." Dominique's voice came over the line. "Are you secure there? Is everyone accounted for?" She asked with purposeful urgency.

"Sister, what is..." He let out a relieved breath, hugely grateful at least to hear her voice. To have the oppressive silence and waiting broken. "Where are you? What's transpired?"

She growled, frustrated. "Answer my questions!" She demanded, immediately regretting her sometimes short temper. He didn't deserve it. He was one of the very last in the world who did. She sighed. "I apologize. I'm... I just need for you to tell me-"

"I understand." He replied, trying not to take offense. She had much weight on her shoulders, he well knew. Weight she usually bore with practiced grace. That she was this agitated now only spoke of the seriousness of this situation, whatever it was. "Obsidiana, Leo, and Una have all still yet to arrive." He told her. "The children are in the safe room and I've set the mansion's defense system to level one."

She sighed in relief. "That's good..."

"I've answered your questions sister, now you will answer mine." He insisted in low tones.

As quiet as Vercinix tended to be at times, Dominique knew his resolve was powerful when it was needed, and it made her smile a little to be reminded of that. Especially now, when she needed her clan to be strong for her. "Yes, brother—yes, I am secure. I was... set upon, earlier this evening. Xanatos, we can be certain."

He let out a growl, suddenly wishing he had that particular human in arm's reach. "Give me your location. Griff will-"

"Griff will stay where he's needed!" She interrupted. "With you." She told him more gently. "With the children." She added for added emphasis. "What I need you and the others to do now is to guard our home. I've taken measures. With any luck, Xanatos won't be a threat for much longer. I have to go now. Don't take any unnecessary risks, and tell Una the same when she returns. Tell her I'll call in later. Until then—until then, stay safe brother. Know my heart is with you, with all of you, always."

"Sister, no, you need..." But she'd ended the call, hadn't she? He set the telephone's receiver carefully back down on its cradle so as to avoid the temptation to crush it in his hand. She could be so _maddening_ sometimes. So many plans, so much she never said. She protected them, lead them, cared for them... more than she seemed to care for her own life much of the time. She set herself apart. Denied herself so much... She had reasons for that, he knew, but he still wished so much that it weren't so. That... That _none_ of this were so.

_Humans_. He thought to himself again, suddenly wishing more than anything that there had never been any such thing as humans on the world.

He leaned forward against the counter and took deep, slow breaths. "What is going on?" He muttered to himself, fear clutching his heart all over again.

A chime sounded, letting him know that the sunroof had been accessed. Either Obsidiana or Leo and Una had arrived back home then. He glanced at the exterior surveillance feeds one more time, then left to go back to Obsidiana's arboretum to greet the returned.

As he walked into the arboretum's center, Obsidiana glided down to land silently on her feet.

"Brother, do you know what's happened?" Obsidiana asked, not at all liking the look on Vercinix's face, the stiff way he carried himself, or the weariness in his eyes.

"The human, Xanatos... He attacked Dominique earlier tonight." He told her.

Obsidiana's eyes flashed a pale sky blue and she growled, fear and fury warring inside of her.

"Calm sister, she in unharmed. She did escaped." Vercinix told her.

"Where is she then?!" Obsidiana demanded. "Is she here? Is she injured?" She went past him, heading for the great room.

"No, no sister. She is not here." He told her even as Griff walked in, joining them.

"Then where?" She demanded. The fury abating, she felt desperate and raw and like even more of a failure, even more alone.

"She... would not inform me." Vercinix admitted. "She only spoke to me that we were safe and that... that she would deal of Xanatos. That he would not be a problem for us too longer."

Obsidiana smiled, a grim pride in Dominique's resilience giving her some measure of comfort and relief. "Then she spoke true, for her vengeance was swift. The Eyrie Building burns. I saw it." She told them as Griff came up behind her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and wrapped her arms and wings about herself, walking off to give herself distance.

"Ana, love..." Griff ventured.

She turned to him. "I should have been with her." She told him bitterly, almost accusingly. Even now, the urge to go back out into the night, to go to her, to see she was truly unharmed with her own eyes, to keep her safe burned in her chest, just as the guilt for not being at her side still gnawed at her. She knew that she'd been rejected, that Dominique did not want her with her, did not want her as a wife... but the love, the devotion she felt for her was a stubborn thing and would not so easily leave her, would not so easily diminish. The horrible thing was that she still had not been clearly told what she had... what she had done wrong...

"You are not at fault for that. For any of this." Vercinix told her. "If anything, she-"

"Enough!" She snapped at him. "It's not your place to tell me how I should feel! You don't have the right!" She told him, her anger needing somewhere to go.

"Maybe it is not my place, sister..." He told her solemnly. "But neither yours to take her choices on your shoulders. This is not... Living a life means tragedy at times. It did not tonight. Be glad of that."

She stared at him, heard the sincerity of feeling in his imperfect English and wanted to hate him for being... right. She couldn't though. "I need to be alone." She told him, turning to walk off into her oasis of green, hoping to find some peace there, but knowing she likely wouldn't.

Griff looked after her.

"I said the wrong things, I think." Vercinix offered, wishing he'd had the good sense to keep his mouth shut. He knew—he knew—that Obsidiana wouldn't respond well to being confronted like that, but he'd done it anyway. Of everyone though, he knew that he and she had the most in common. That should make it easier for them to communicate, should it not? Then why was it so often just the opposite?

"Maybe so." Griff admitted, but with no censure. "Then again, she might have needed to hear it... What say you go check on the children and I hang about here for a while?" He offered.

Vercinix sighed. "Probably for the best." He was forced to admit, going to hug him and enjoy his touch and warmth for a minute before turning to go on his way.

Griff looked about him and sighed himself. The women in his life were always the difficult kind, weren't they? It just seemed to be his lot in life. Not that he loved them less for it, because he surely didn't. He sat down on a bench to wait, knowing his sister just needed time. She wouldn't admit it, but she'd also not want to be alone when she emerged either. So... he'd wait.

A few minutes later, the chime sounded again and the sunroof opened, admitting Una and Leo. As the couple glided down, Obsidiana wandered out and joined him to greet them. He gave Leo a hug in greeting, Obsidiana giving Una a weary hug of shared solace. "What's happened?" Una asked.

"I..." Noticing belatedly the odd feel of her sister's hand on her skin, Obsidiana took up Una's burnt hand in both of hers. "Your hand. You're hurt?" Obsidiana questioned urgently, ignoring her sister's question. "Come. Come with me." She took her off to find remedies for her sister in the green.

"Obsidiana, please. It's nothing. The sun will heal me soon enough." Una told her. "You must tell me-"

"Dominique was attacked." Obsidiana told her softly, trying not to be too bitter about it and only partly succeeding, as she sat Una down on some rocks and got to work, finding the plants she would need. "David Xanatos. If he were not likely already dead, I think I would hunt him down to tear out his heart myself..." Her heart was beating fast, and she tried to calm it. She needed to _do_ something.

Una stood and put a hand on Obsidiana's shoulder. "Sister..."

Obsidiana batted it away, frustrated with herself, tears starting to form as she considered it could have been Una's injured had. It hadn't been, but... And Dominique could be _hurt_ out there somewhere in the night. She hadn't told Vercinix she was, but would she necessarily admit it if it were true? She wouldn't, no, not if she thought it would put them in danger to do it. "I'm sorry." She told her.

Una didn't say anything, she just gathered Obsidiana in her arms again and cradled her to her as she shook.

Obsidiana didn't—couldn't—bring herself to say anything. She just let herself be held and hated herself a little for being weak enough to need it.

After she got her tears under control though, she firmly guided Una back to sitting so she could tend to her. When that was done... When that was done, she told herself, she wasn't going to stay here. She was going to do something. She was going to find out how this had happened.

And, hopefully, she was going to find Dominique.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	9. Secrets Kept

**Brave... Part 9: Secrets Kept**

* * *

Jason Langston arrived at the Eyrie Building and slowly came to a halt on the sidewalk, taking it in. He'd heard the sirens blocks away, gotten glimpses, but the traffic had been such a mess he'd had to park a few blocks back and go the rest of the way on foot. Looking up, he saw the penthouse suites were still smoking—likely a burnt-out husk, if what Keith had told him was at all accurate.

He took in the scene at ground level. The police had cordoned off the building and the street and sidewalk in front. Some glass shrapnel from the blown-out windows had fallen, and the streets were in the process of being cleared, but Keith hadn't reported any injured personnel or civilians—only Xanatos's bullet wound and... the dead. Luckily, the building had been largely deserted because of the late hour. Neither had there been any foot traffic on the sidewalks outside the building at the time, thankfully. Looking around, he didn't see any signs of automotive accidents either. That made sense, as anyone in an automobile would have been safe enough from any stray glass shards. The only real trouble that could have resulted would have been if a driver had failed to keep a level head in a moment of surprise.

But still, bloody hell in a handbasket was this ever a mess.

What—_what_—had David Xanatos _done_ to have gotten a response like _this_? He'd done his research on the Demon, and he well knew that she had few scruples when it came to meeting violence with violence. No, people who threatened her or hers usually suffered very decisive and very permanent reprisals. As things were, she basically _owned_ the country of Guatemala (which, as of sometime last year, had absorbed its neighboring nation of Belize). She very likely owned El Salvador and Honduras as well—and she had a good deal of influence in Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, Cuba, Haiti, and Jamaica too. It was hard to say just how much influence, but that area of the world... Guatemala had near zero crime now, a standard of living that was on par with the United States, and an economy that made it a global powerhouse. Military insurgents, revolutionaries, armed gangs, drug cartels—they'd all been slaughtered, or driven out.

He wasn't fool enough to take it on faith that she was doing it all for some sort of altruistic reasons, or, at the least, not reasons that genuinely had humanity's best interests at heart. He didn't know _what_ exactly she was up too, truth be told. It had given them a great deal of pause though, he and his siblings, to discover their family's ancient foe acting this way. For himself, he remained all but convinced that she was doing it all to some dire ends. His brother and sister, he knew, were less convinced. She was guilty of his father's death, he knew, and he wanted that to be enough reason for him to have done with this, but he knew it wasn't. His father had sought her out and in that way brought about his own end, after a fashion. No, what would make his death a crime would be proof—proof that he had died a hero, fighting against a wicked foe to protect the world from a dire threat they didn't know existed.

No. If he was going to risk spending his life the same way, risk spending his brother and sister's life that same way, risk never having the life and the family he wanted with Anna one day... Then he needed to have proof. It was a hard thing, really. He'd always clung to the thought that his father had been a hero. He didn't want to think that wasn't true. He didn't want to have nothing to do with the anger that had been with him all these years, but... When Anna was in his arms and smiling to him? Oh how he wanted to forget every damn thing in the world but her...

He sighed, and started to walk resolutely forward.

Maybe, he considered, he would finally have his answer soon? Maybe this whole mess was actually the break he'd been searching for? True, Xanatos could well be in the wrong in all of this. Maybe he'd been a threat to the Demon's people, or to her? He knew of the man's goal of attaining his immortality, even though Xanatos had never seen fit to confide that to him—he knew a lot Xanatos had never confided to him, actually. Maybe Xanatos had just tried to force the issue at last? It would fit. Then the Demon's guilt in all of this might be as ambiguous as it was with his own father's death. The manner of her reprisal though, it had the air of being rushed, and certainly less subtle than her usual means. To do something like this in the middle of Manhattan as though this were some third world country? It was not just a little extreme.

And if it wasn't that—wasn't her defending herself, however rashly—then the question he had to ask would be... what was she trying to hide?

Had Xanatos found something? Did he know? Did he know what the Demon was truly about? Was _that_ why he'd had to be silenced?

He identified himself to the police officers on the perimeter and walked over to where Grace Daniels, one of the company's top public relations people, was talking with an Officer Morgan. He talked with them a few minutes and found out that there'd been a development since he'd last checked in with Keith. A company employee had been killed when the rockets had hit—a janitor named Henry Choy who'd been working on the floor below the one that had been attacked. He'd been working directly under where one of the rockets had hit and part of the ceiling had caved in on top of him.

_That_, he thought to himself was one thing he could firmly and undeniably place the blame for at the Demon's feet.

* * *

David sat there, in the middle of the debris of his former home as he was attended to by paramedics who'd had to get to them by the stairs because they couldn't be sure the elevators were safe, and he watched and listened in some bemusement as his lover effetely took charge of everything. Nick had gotten the paramedics up here, negotiated with the police, called Grace Daniels in, arranged for more security personnel to arrive, coordinated a floor-by-floor search for injured employees, _and_ made arrangements for a secure extraction for the both of them... Arrangements which would soon be put into effect.

They were heading to Xanadu, his upstate retreat. Dominique knew where it was, certainly, but likely she'd be able to find him eventually wherever he went. Xanadu was heavily fortified, with an extensive hidden underground complex beneath, and included such amenities as a camouflaged anti-aircraft defense system and state-of-the-art communications center. As trite as saying it aloud might sound, he was effectively at war now. He and Dominique had resources exceeding many nations after all—in fact, Dominique effective _owned_ at least _three_ nations—so calling it a war wasn't really that far off from the truth. Though, more accurately, it was a chess match with real life stakes writ large across the world's stage. He was white, king of the day and she black, king of the night—the match would only conclude when one of them fell. If he was going to wage this match though, he needed a command center—Xanadu, by design, was ideally suited.

The gargoyle he'd had kidnapped from Guatemala was housed at Xanadu as well, Opalia was her name, and that would be another bargaining chip in his favor if things came to the worst.

"Don't take this the wrong way," a voice he recognized broke into his musings "but how are you alive right now?"

He looked over at the police detective who'd spoken. "Ah. Detective Matt Bluestone. What a pleasure to see you again." He'd transferred into the city a few months ago. They'd met last month when David's father had been kidnapped for ransom by a mercenary he'd once employed who'd gone by the name of _Wolf_. David had found himself impressed by the detective and had looked into him. What he'd found had been a surprise. Bluestone's previous place of employment had been with the CIA, where he'd apparently been dismissed because he'd developed an obsession with a secret society named the Illuminati—a society that he believed secretly ran the world. The rub of it was, of course, that Bluestone _was_ more or less correct. While it would be something of an exaggeration to say that they _ran the world_ (more accurately, they exerted quite significant influence over a large portion of it), the Illuminati _did_ actually exist—David knew because he happened to be a member in good standing. It amused him to wonder if Bluestone might just suspect that. Certainly though, anyone with the insight and the will to discover what he had and not give up the search, even in the face of such setback, it either marked him as quite a remarkable man, or quite a foolish one (likely both, actually).

"Oh, likewise." Matt replied. "So, how _are _you alive? Reports were that you and Nick Blackfeather were up here when the strike happened."

"How do you _think_ we survived?" David asked, curious.

"I honestly haven't got much of a clue. I suppose you could have had a blast shelter built somewhere around here." Matt guessed, sounding like he was less than convinced that was the right explanation.

"Well, there you are then." David replied.

"So where is it then?" Matt countered. "For my report."

David sighed. "You're here to investigate the people who tried to kill me, detective, not my security measures. Do try to remember that?"

"Right, sorry. So, for the record then, any idea who was behind this?" Matt asked. He didn't know what was going on here, but he was reasonably sure he wasn't being given the whole story. But Xanatos was a possible route for him to make inroads on his Illuminati investigation, and they were on fairly good terms, so he didn't want to alienate him without cause.

"Well, as I'm sure you can well imagine, a man in my position has any number of detractors, but someone who'd go to lengths like this?" He asked. "I'm afraid I really have no idea." He lied. He wasn't about to get the police in the middle of this. That would only muddle things.

"I see. Well, still, we'll need you to write out a list of these detractors of yours."

"I'm afraid there isn't time for that at the moment." Nick spoke, laying a hand on Matt's shoulder. "The company has a private security force that tracks these things. And, ah, speak of the devil. Here's Mr. Xanatos's head of personal security now." He observed, noting Jason Langston's timely arrival. _At least he's proving himself of_ some _use_, he thought to himself, still fairly seething inside at the insult of the attack. That it had been Langston's responsibility to prevent it and that he'd failed as _miserably_ as he had wasn't something he was going to forget, or easily forgive. "I'm sure he'll be able to answer any further questions you might have." He offered, smoothly guiding Bluestone over in Langston's direction.

"Good luck on your hunt, detective." David called after them.

Jason saw Nick Blackfeather and Detective Matt Bluestone heading his way, and he braced himself.

* * *

Opalia stared into the mirror at length, looking at herself. It was her looking back, but it wasn't. _Human_. She'd been so before, of course, but only for a minute's time—just long enough for the magic of one of Dominique's clan's bracelets to take effect, making her immune to stone sleep, as all of her clan were now. It had been months now that she'd been _made_ to be like this again. That sorcerer, the lover of the man who'd captured her, had somehow seen the spell cast on her and managed to trigger the transformation magic with a kiss to her cheek. For a month before that, it had been both better and worse. Worse, because she'd been... experimented on... But better because at least then she'd been _herself_. At least then she'd had... an identity...

She'd been missed by her clan, surely, but how would anyone know where to look for her? Would her people even recognize her if they found her?

She'd tried to escape of course, several times.

She remembered sitting by the river, the day it had all gone so wrong. She'd still been marveled by that back then... to see the world bathed in sunlight—to feel the nearly euphoric sense of power and wellbeing that sun on her skin gave her. She'd loved it. Loved to go out amongst the green during the day. That day, she'd gotten into an argument with one of her friends. She didn't even remember what it had been about anymore. But she knew it had probably only been because she'd been short-tempered because the girl she'd been courting had gone into the human city, disguised as a human herself, to help their leader, Turquesa, in running the branch of Dominique Destine's company that was headquartered there. It hadn't been the first time, and Sapphira had asked her to come along and see the city with her...

She'd been afraid though. Afraid of the humans—even afraid to _be_ human. She still remembered as a young girl how... violent they had been. Now look at her though. If only she'd had more courage... But, then, if she had, maybe it would have been another of her clan to be here now, instead of her. It even could have been Sapphira...

And _that_ thought was at least enough to make her glad of something. Because if what Sapphira must be feeling now was anything like what she would have felt if their situations had been reversed, then she was almost _glad_ to be the one stuck here in this place wearing a stranger's face.

Frustrated and tormented, she turned away from the mirror, afraid that if she kept looking, she would be unable to stop herself from lashing out again. She'd done so before, venting her frustration on the comfortable prison around her. She'd done so twice before. Both times, the humans who guarded her had come in and used tasers on her. She'd woken up in bed after both incidents, bruised and sore perhaps, but unharmed and alone again. On waking, she'd found her rooms cleaned and straightened, and, within a few days, everything she'd destroyed had been replaced. Sophia Arden, the woman who was assigned as her keeper, had explained to her that the man who held her captive wanted her kept safe, comfortable, and unharmed. Sophia didn't know much more than that. She was a mercenary, someone who did these sorts of things for what the humans called _money_. She was also half-Guatemalan, half British and spoke the Guatemalan dialect of Spanish fluently. Since none of the other humans that guarded her did, Sophia was her only means of verbal communication with them.

At first, Opalia had avoided talking to any of the humans, but she'd seen Sophia every day, and the loneliness and monotony of her life had soon become too much, and she'd started talking with her just so that she wouldn't go mad of it. They'd talked regularly since... She'd even convinced the human to her bed. Not because she had real feelings for her, but, selfishly, because she'd just wanted... someone. Human sleep was something she was only now getting used to, and it was much better with someone else next to you, holding you... She didn't know how Sophia felt for her, really. The woman was remarkably... She didn't know a word for it, but she just seemed to accept everything. She'd laugh easily and talk about anything, but she always seemed... apart somehow. There was something... sharp... in her too... Some restless other self behind her eyes that she'd never let Opalia see...

A part of her felt guilty for it. For taking Sophia to her bed. It often struck her, how similar her name was to Sapphira's. She never spoke of her, or of her clan to Sophia, beyond things that couldn't matter. Things that couldn't be used _against_ them. Some days she even hated Sophia, for no reason beyond that she was human and was one of the humans who were keeping her here, trapped in this place, in this body that wasn't her own... Some days she hated her enough to want to... Was it because she was human now, that she felt things like that, she wondered?

She sat on one of the sofas then and looked out onto the woods at night. She couldn't hear anything besides the hum of a few human electronic devices in the room or in the walls. The building was soundproofed, Sophia had explained. She was allowed to go for walks in the woods two or three times every week. Sophia had arranged for it, in exchange for her promise not to attempt to escape anymore. Opalia had agreed, if only because she'd come to realize it was futile to attempt. If the day ever came that that was no longer the case though, she told herself, then she would gladly break her word... Even if she had to hurt Sophia in the process.

She wanted her own _life_ back—more each day, it seemed.

She heard the sound of the door opening. Heard footfalls on the carpet. It was a curious thing, but, even though it was rare for anyone but Sophia to enter her living space, Opalia recognized something in the quality of Sophia's movements, even without seeing her, that told her that it was her. She knew so very much about this human woman, didn't she? Probably more than she knew about anyone else, even Sapphira. She could catalogue a dizzying array of her facial expressions, detect every small inflection in her voice. She wanted to turn around, take her in her arms, be with her... and, at the same time, she wanted to never see her again just as much...

She wished that same old wish again: To be home, for this never to have happened, to forget all of it... for all the humans to die...

"Hey, Opal." Sophia greeted her warmly in Guatemalan Spanish. "I brought you a snack?" She offered.

Opalia sighed. "I'm not feeling very hungry at the moment." She admitted, still tormented by her thoughts. Still, her thoughts hurt her the most when she was alone. For that reason, if nothing else, she was glad Sophia had come back.

"No? Well, um... You... want to go to bed then?" She offered, the fact that she would be willing to join her being implicitly understood.

Opalia turned and met Sophia's eyes, not speaking, but nodding her acceptance. She stood and walked over to her, taking her hand and leading them off towards the bedroom. She needed something to work off her tension and troubles, something to distract her, and this was all she had.

In the bedroom, she tossed a laughing Sophia down on the bed and climbed on top of her. Sophia was smiling and gazing into her eyes in a way that had Opalia immediately feeling guilty. Not for the first time, she wondered if Sophia had real feelings for her, and, if so, how deeply they went? She'd asked her once some weeks ago, if she cared about her enough to betray her employer and help her escape? Sophia had gone quiet a moment, and then told her that, yes, she did, that she would free her if she could, but... that it was hopeless. That they were too far away from human civilization and that the security here at Xanadu was too formidable for it to work. Opalia had accepted the reasoning because she'd had to, but she still wondered if Sophia had told her the truth... or merely told her what she thought would keep her the most docile.

She wondered too if doing this, using this woman for her own comfort, would make her any better, even if that were so. She moved down over her, no longer feeling so worked up or agitated, and just wanting that comfort—not only to have it, but to give it as well. She kissed her slow and softly, laying over her, cupping one of her breasts and running a hand through her hair. Sophia moaned under her and arched her back against her as Opalia squeezed her breast and brushed her nipple with a thumb through her shirt. Sophia's arms wrapped around her, a hand on her head and one on her back, holding them close together as they turned to lay on their sides.

They kissed like that for long minutes until Sophia turned into her and lay Opalia out on her back, continuing to make out with her moments longer before breaking off and pulling back to sit up, straddling her. As Opalia watched, entranced and hazy with want, Sophia, in no particular hurry, stripped out of her clothing...

Opalia swallowed, letting arousal overtake her and push out everything else.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	10. Life In The Moment

**Brave... Part 10: Life In The Moment**

* * *

"What was she even _doing _out there?" Obsidiana demanded, feeling bitter and increasingly like she needed to do... something. Maybe anything, really, except stay here and hide herself away.

Una sighed. She was standing by the window (usually her favorite place to read) in the great room with the others of her clan, minus one. Leo was seated in a chair close to her, looking intent and thoughtful as he leaned forward in his chair, his right hand closed over his fisted left hand. Vercinix stood by the monitoring station, listening to their conversation and adding his comments in at times, all the while keeping his eyes on the monitors and status readings, alert for any signs or trouble—thankfully, past Dominque's initial call, and, of course, the destruction of the Eyrie Building's top floors, none had appeared. Griff, for his part, was leaning against a wall next to the entrance to the children's sanctuary, looking more confident and less ill at ease than any of them. Oh how she'd missed that over the long years he'd been lost to her—his brave heart and confident smile. His presence always gave her courage and hope—reminded her that wondrously good, seemingly impossible things _could_ happen in the world. "The lost ones of her clan—the cursed." Una told them in answer.

"Explain." Obsidiana pressed coolly, upset all over again because, once more, Dominique had confided in Una when she hadn't with her, or with any of them for that matter. She knew of what Una spoke though, they all did. Aslan, currently in with the children, had been one of them—one of the lost. Cured to an endless stone sleep by a human mage following the fall of Castle Wyvern, a thousand years ago. Three youths and Dominique's one-time teacher yet slumbered. Dominique still searched to find the last of them that she might one day free them.

"There was a legal firm, some ways across the city, by the name of Kendrick and Associates. Estate barristers." Una clarified. "She'd been trying to gain access to records that would tell her to whom a particular _statue_ was sold after its previous owner's untimely death. I suspect now, of course, that David Xanatos either noticed her inquires and took advantage of them to set up an ambush for her, or that he fabricated the entire exercise in some fashion to achieve the same ends."

"Sounds about right for him." Griff spoke up, feeling a little bitterly himself at that. He'd liked the man when they'd first met, actually, though he'd soon leaned the error in that. Oh, it hadn't been anything dire, he supposed. He'd just played the friend, gotten him drunk one night, enough to loosen his tongue on matters he'd really had no business sharing outside the clan. Oldest trick in the book, really, and he'd felt very much the fool for having fallen for it.

"Do you suppose-" Leo started to speak.

"Where?" Obsidiana interrupted him sharply, her eyes locking with Una's again.

"Sister, no. You know-" Una began to argue. It hardly took a clairvoyant to tell where this was headed.

"Where!?" Obsidiana demanded, cutting her off. "Tell me, or I swear I'll go to the Eyrie Building and shake answers out of whoever's left alive." She told her, her voice and her heart feeling as though they were icing over. She wasn't entirely certain she wouldn't do it either.

Una sighed again. "A block or so north from Giardiello's Bakery." She confessed, _none _of them particularly fluent in Manhattan's many street names.

"Thank you." Obsidiana replied, turning to go and then breaking into a run towards the arboretum and the skylight exit above.

Una looked to Leo, then to Griff.

"I'll go after her." Griff spoke up, turning to follow after her.

Vercinix growled, but said nothing. Griff paused to give him a questioning look, but Vercinix only sighed and indicated he should go, not trusting himself to say anything useful.

"Keep her safe." Una told Griff belatedly as he was almost gone.

"My word on that!" Griff called back.

"...Keep yourself safe too, damn you." Una said to herself after he'd gone.

As his husband left, Vercinix's thoughts were troubled. He didn't want Griff out there following after their sister when Obsidiana was in such a potentially dangerous state of mind, but neither had he been able to contrive any valid reason to bar him from it. Griff cared for her, they all cared for her, but Griff had made it his calling of late to try to cheer their sister up a bit, or at least to be a friend to her. It was an unworthy part of him that resented her for it. For taking that part of Griff's time and attention away, when Griff seemed like all that kept him going some days... That, more than anything else—that guilt over those feelings—was probably the biggest reason he'd held his tongue.

Leo wrapped his arms and wings about Una from behind and she let herself sink luxuriously back into the solid warmth and sure strength of him. At a time like this though, as much as she loved her husband with a fierce devotion, she could admit to herself that a part of herself that she'd never confessed to aloud, had... begun to be drawn to another. She'd never truly known what it was like, to be with a woman. She would have married one of the women of her clan, she was sure, if things had... progressed as they rightfully should have... She'd even fancied a girl back then, when she'd been but a youth herself. Her name had been Aria... but they'd been too young... Only seventeen and sixteen, and Una the younger. Old enough to be courting, but not much more. There'd been a few fleeting kisses between them, but it hadn't gone further... And then, of course, her clan had been butchered one night—she, Leo, and Griff the only survivors. They'd only had each other. In the beginning, it had been about solace as much as anything else between the three of them. They'd been the only ones—for all they'd known, the only of their kind left in all the world.

They hadn't had children, she hadn't wanted to, because she hadn't had hope... If things had gone their usual course, she supposed, she and Leo never would have wed. She would have sought out a wife, as most women of her kind tended to. It was something else the humans had taken from her, she supposed, and she couldn't help wondering sometimes what she'd missed. Most particularly, when she saw Obsidiana suffering so, a part of her simply... longed to be there for her, perhaps even to share touch as lovers would, to show her in a way that words couldn't that she wasn't as alone as she might think herself to be... She could never forsake Leo though, she knew, and they were both too old for thoughts like this anyway. She wondered if he thought these kinds of things too? If he might look at Griff sometimes and wonder what might have been, if life had been kinder. She'd never asked though, and she never would. She loved him, and he loved her, as much as anyone could. It just... She'd never felt real passion for him, not the sort of passionate romance she might have dreamed of as a girl all those many years gone by. She shared a sure and certain depth of feeling with him though, and that was priceless. And again, she was too old for such fancies, and, well... Even if she weren't, she couldn't wound one in the possibly futile hope of healing another. She only wished that matters between Dominique and Obsidiana hadn't ended so very wrongly... She supposed there were certain advantages of a lack of passion in one's life.

As depressing a thought as that was.

* * *

On the roof, Griff watched as Obsidiana launched herself out into the night sky. Without a word, he took off at a run, jumping off the roof's edge to glide after her down into the city.

She wasn't slowing to let him catch her, so it took no little time and a few tricks with the wind he'd learned battling the Nazis over London during the Blitz to catch up to her. He dipped down from above as they turned to glide between two skyrises, coming up beside her. "Do you mind the company too much?" He asked.

"...I don't." Obsidiana told him, confessing to herself that she was glad not to be doing this alone.

They went on in silence, both knowing where they were going. One took the lead at times, or one fell a bit behind at times, but they kept good pace with one another and made good time. Urgency drove Obsidiana onward ...Dominique would be well gone by the time she arrived at the scene, she knew, but she needed to see it anyway. And, who knew? Maybe she'd find good fortune and tumble to some hint of where she'd gone to?

A part of her hated feeling this way. Hated being so... at a loss. Humans, she thought to herself—they did all sorts of horrid, vile things to one another. They struck their spouses, their children. They tortured, murdered, forced themselves on... even those they claimed to love. She'd _seen_ humans do many of those things with her own eyes, and she never wanted to see such things again. Try as she might to rid herself of the memories though, she often found herself dwelling on them, and on those ugly things humans did, more often that she'd wish to. No gargoyle had ever done such things, as far as she knew... but she wondered, if feeling the way she felt right now might not be part of the reason why they acted the way they did? Because she wanted... She _wanted_ to force Dominique to _stop_ this. Wanted to kill _anyone_ who threatened her. Wanted to _make_ her come back to her, or... if not that, then at least to tell her the truth... It wasn't in her to do anything like that—she'd far sooner kill herself than resort to such depths, she knew—but even still... This felt like a kind of torture, and she just... she wanted it to stop, so badly...

Flying over Giardiello's Bakery, the pair spotted their destination easily enough by the police presence.

Looking over to Griff, Obsidiana saw him nod towards the rooftop of the building across from the crime scene. She nodded her acceptance and followed him in to land. She closed her eyes and tried to resign herself. Her urgency and sharp determination seemed to flag somewhat, now that she was here and faced with the daunting reality that she... really didn't know what to do next that would be useful. She wasn't about to say that to Griff though, and she wasn't about to let the fact that she had no ideals of what to do stop her from the doing of it. So she wrapped her wings about her shoulders and made her way to the roof's edge to observe the scene.

"What do you think, then?" Griff asked from next to her.

He was the same as he usually was: Acting as though he had no concerns that couldn't be managed and no reason not to see the best of things—no reason not to believe that what came next in life would turn out better than it usually ever did. Not for the first time, she envied that sure, easy confidence of his. Not for the first time, she wondered how he really felt about things, inside his own head and heart. She knew what he'd gone through. She didn't know how to compare his tragedies to her own, but she... had to think he wasn't as untouched by them as he wanted to pretend he was. Still, she'd never demanded any confessions of him, because if he could find peace, or even a pretense of peace, then she felt she had no right to take it from it. She growled low in her chest, her eyes narrowing on the building across the way. "Wait here." She told him, checking to see no one below would see and then leaping from the roof to dart silently across the short distance to the building across the way.

Seconds later, she landed and a second after that she heard the soft touch of Griff's feet landing on the roof behind her. She turned to face him, wanting to be annoyed or upset that he'd ignored her. She wasn't though. She sighed. "I'm going inside. You can keep watch for me here... or continue to follow me, I suppose."

He gave her a smile that almost had her smiling too. She didn't though, because her heart was too heavy at the moment to allow that. Instead, she just brought her wrist up to touch the enchanted bracelet she wore there to her lips in a kiss.

Magic swelled as a soft, subtlety felt swirl of air and energy around her. She half hummed, half moaned a little as she felt her body swiftly change, retract, soften, become other than it was meant to. She stretched and tried to accustom herself to the feeling of being human again after so long, spreading her arms wide and missing her wings already. It was such an odd feeling, to change like that. She stubbornly pushed the disquiet aside though and met Griff's eyes in a challenge or a question, holding the bracelet out to him in offer.

He shook his head. "I think one of us should stay fighting fit in all of this. Just on the chance that troubles may be lurking about." He replied, folding his wings about his shoulders.

Obsidiana nodded, accepting the logic. She turned to go into the open roof access door. Did the open door mean Dominique had gotten to the roof and glided away? If she'd been able to do that, where would she go, if not home? She heard Griff's footfalls behind her—apparently, he'd decided to follow her instead of keeping watch, even though he was still gargoyle. "Just stay back to the shadows." She murmured to him, resigned.

"Right." He agreed.

Was Dominique hurt? Had she not been able to stay in the air for that distance? Had she been pursued? That and other scenarios crossed her mind as she descended the darkened stairwell, keeping her senses alert for any hint of the human police's presence, and being careful of where she stepped, mindful that, as a human, her still bare feet were all too vulnerable to unintentional injury. She wished she'd thought to bring one of Una's... Wait. She paused and waited a beat for Griff to come close to her so she could keep her voice low. "Do you happen to have one of Una's glamour coins with you?" She asked.

Griff nodded. "As luck would have it..." He opened one of his belt pouches and produced _two_ of the gold Hungarian coins.

Obsidiana did smile then, in gratitude to him for coming with her. She took one of the coins and closed it in her hand. "_Și așa că apar ca aparenta memoria mea._" She spoke the Romanian incantation that would trigger it while remembering one of the police officers she and Griff had seen below them on the street outside the building. The words meant _and so I appear as my memory's seeming_, and that was how the enchantment worked. She would have to keep the memory of the female human police officer she'd seen in her mind in order for the spell to stay in place. If her concentration slipped, the spell would end, and the coin's magic would be used up until Una could bless it again. The enchantment only made her _appear_ as someone other than who she was, it wasn't a true transformation of any sort, so it was good that she'd already used her bracelet to become human, otherwise her tail and wings could have been an issue for as close quarters as she might be venturing into shortly.

She went on ahead, noticing that, as she got closer to the humans, Griff drifted farther behind. Staying out of sight in the shadows, as she'd requested of him.

The law offices of Kendrick and Associates were easy to find. There were still human police inside, examining the scene. At the moment, she could also see who she assumed to be coroners, taking away the dead body of a man in dark mercenary armor. She got a few looks from the humans, but no one seemed to question her right to be here. No one asked anything of her either, all of their attentions already given to their work.

As she looked around though, her heart sank. This was the scene of not only an attack, but a true struggle for survival... or freedom, in Dominique's case. Obsidiana knew well from her own experience that _freedom_ could actually motivate one to fight and kill as much, if not more than survival... Considering that, she was glad that at least one of the humans who had done this to Dominique had found their death because of it. One less enemy to threaten them. She considered her next move. She couldn't ask any questions, lest she risk revealing that she did not belong. Had Dominique been taken to a police station for questioning after the incident, and called Vercinix from there? It was true... she might consider herself at least reasonably secure inside a police station, at least until she could have some of her human followers arrive in force to escort her away to somewhere safer. The open roof door could just as easily be accounted for by Dominique's arrival, or even by the mercenaries in some fashion, after all. How to find out though? Obsidiana knew she couldn't go along with these humans back to their station, because the human she impersonated would be with them and she would be discovered.

She supposed she could follow them by air and then use her bracelet again... Except she had no shoes and wasn't dressed as a typical human. It would raise questions. How could she...? and then she knew the answer. She didn't like the answer, because she didn't want to face talking with her again after so long. It would be awkward and difficult, but she knew she had to go see Robyn Correy.

She turned to leave, reverting to her gargoyle self with a second kiss to her bracelet as she climbed the stairs to the roof, Griff following behind.

"Learn anything?" Griff asked as they emerged out into the night.

Obsidiana wanted to just... hit something. Not Griff, but she eyed a nearby ventilation unit and imagined how satisfying it would be to strike it with her fist as hard as she could. It was a very bad idea though, and she took a deliberate breath to calm and banish the impulse from her as best she could. "Nothing definite..." She spoke at last. "But I have an idea." She turned to regard her clan brother thoughtfully. "But it's... something I need to do alone."

"Ana... Are you sure-"

"I'm sure." She interrupted him. "Will you... Will you just wait here? Wait for the humans to leave, and then follow them back to their police station and keep watch? I... I don't know if Dominique's there, but there's a chance she might be there as a human. It's the only scenario where we have a chance of finding her that I can think of, in any case. You go, keep watch, and I'll meet you there."

"Alright. And can I ask where you'll be off to?" Griff asked.

She sighed. "I'm... going to see a friend." She told him, taking out her cellular phone and stepping away from Griff to give herself a little distance as she dialed a number she'd memorized but not used recently.

"Hello?" Robyn's hauntingly familiar voice came over the receiver.

"Hello Robyn..." Obsidiana spoke.

"Adriana?" Robyn asked.

"It's me." Obsidiana replied. She'd gone by the name Adriana Estrada when she'd ventured into Dominique's corporate world, and Robyn was ignorant of both her and Dominique's true natures, so of course she would still call her that... "Listen, where are you?" She asked. "...Can we meet?"

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	11. What A Friend Does

**Brave... Part 11: What A Friend Does**

* * *

Robyn hung up her call with Adriana and just stood there a moment. She'd been in the main security hub of Nightstone's Manhattan headquarters, getting an update when she'd gotten the call. She'd excused herself and stepped out of the room to take Adriana's call. She looked down the hall at the small square of the night's sky she could see through the window a few offices down.

She stood there and thought. Dominique had called in a companywide security alert, but, despite several attempts, and several messages left on her voice mail, Dominique had yet to answer her phone or call Robyn back.

Brice Abernathy had come snooping around the hub. He'd excused himself soon after Robyn had walked in, but the fact that he'd been there at all wasn't a good omen in her opinion. Officially, Brice was the head of company security, worldwide... Unofficially, he was one of Dominique's... problem solvers. A man she called in when, say, military insurgents were becoming a problem, or the local organized crime syndicate started to cause trouble. Robyn herself wasn't officially privy to the details of his work history, but, unofficially, she'd read every one of his after action reports.

If he were somehow involved in whatever had led Dominique to call that alert... Then this _wasn't_ nothing. In any case, this _had_ to be connected to the attack on the Eyrie Building that had happened earlier, it was too much of a coincidence not to be. Still, someone else could have been behind it, and Dominique could have simply gotten wind of the impending attack (perhaps from Xanatos himself), prompting her to call the alert, and, she supposed, Brice's interest could be simple conscientiousness on his part...

She sighed and went go check in with the scientists and lab techs two floors down who'd been trapped here over night. The alert had triggered a lockdown. No one in or out until security finished sweeping the building and vetting _everyone_. She and Brice could both leave if they wanted, they had the clearance for it, but no one else. She hadn't been planning to go home for a while yet though. She'd been here working late on a land reclamation project that she'd developed a passion for lately and, as she was in charge of the building, and the company in general, while Dominique was unavailable, she'd decided she'd stay and ride the lockdown out with everyone else, to make sure things went smoothly if for nothing else. That was before Adriana Estrada called though. If Dominique really did need her help, she wasn't going to say no.

Security had her cellular's number, after all—they'd call her if something actually happened. Probably nothing would, but... She stopped in her tracks as she looked up and out the building's corner windows before her and saw the Eyrie Building's state with her own two eyes for the first time. "Saints preserve us..." She spoke to herself.

She'd gotten the call from John first, about what had happened at the Eyrie. He'd given her a code phrase that had told her that Jason wasn't hurt. She'd been in the middle of assuring some executives of their continued safety at the time had schooled her features. She'd gone to security then, gotten an update, then made some calls oversees to check in personally with her counterparts there, and had been keeping herself busy until now. Left unsaid between her and John was the obvious suspicion that Dominique had been behind the attack on Xanatos's building.

Robyn wanted to doubt it. Dominique, if nothing else, was more subtle than that. At least in the middle of Manhattan. In central America, well, this kind of thing would be tame by comparison to some of the things Nightstone had done to the local warlords and militias there. All in a good cause, she knew, or... at least believed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned back against the wall to take a breath and steady herself.

"Oh, you're in it well and proper, and you know it, woman." She scolded herself.

She'd let herself forget more than a little why she was really here, she knew. Dominique Destine had... No use lying about it—they'd become friends. Good friends. Maybe even _best_ friends. Robyn had come to... to trust her—to a respectable extent, at least. They were both holding back things on that front, she knew, and that meant there was always a certain distance there on both sides. Nevertheless, she'd seen the good works Dominique had done in the world and had all but convinced herself entirely that, despite that the woman got her hands dirty in the doing of her _good deeds_ at times, that her family _had_ to be wrong about her...

Oh, but would she be feeling that way about it if Jason _had_ been in the top floors of that building when it had blown? Would she be so willing to offer her faith if she had better memories of her father than she did? ...Yes, she reminded herself, she couldn't be positive that Dominique had been behind the attack on Eyrie. Xanatos had more enemies than just Dominique Destine, for certain, but...

She closed her eyes tight and took another breath, standing up straight. She looked at the faraway building and told herself that Jason wasn't dead, that she knew nothing for certain, and that questions of what ifs and what would come of all of this could well stand to wait to be pondered another day.

Today's troubles were more than enough to think about.

She'd check in with the lab people and then head down to the lobby, where, supposedly, she was to meet Adriana Estrada (who, like her and Brice, had the necessary clearance to come and go as she pleased, lockdown or no).

* * *

After another long glide through the city towers, Obsidiana alighted on Nightstone's roof. There was a small private park up here, and, because of just this kind of situation, only Dominique and those of their clan had security codes to the roof access doors that would work at night.

Landing, Obsidiana looked about the roof and the night sky with keen, intent eyes before she kissed her bracelet to transform into her human form. That done, she undressed and went over to a hidden compartment with a coded lock to retrieve an appropriate set of clothing.

She tried not to think about anything as she mechanically dressed herself.

At last, slipping on a pair of shoes, she deliberately reminded herself of why she was here and what her goal was. That set in her mind, she walked across the cobblestones of the patio area, over to a recessed stairwell in the center of the building that led down to a door. Typing her code into the keypad, she was granted entrance. Inside, she put her palm to a handprint reader on another door and went through to a small room with access to Dominique's private elevator. "Elevator access: Obsidiana." She spoke aloud, the panel lighting up, letting her know that the elevator had been called up from the floor below and would be up to her soon.

Dominique's office was dark when the elevator opened it to her, and but she only had to step out a few paces and face the nearby wall. "Armory access: Obsidiana." She spoke aloud again, causing a panel to open. Various weapons were concealed within, arranged neatly by type. She chose a handgun and a knife, fitting herself with a shoulder holster for the hand gun and an ankle holster for the knife. She'd trained somewhat in the use of both with Dominique when they'd been together, as a precaution. She felt fairly confident in her skill with the knife, and she was at least reasonably competent with the handgun... or, at least she had been, the last time she'd practiced with one.

That taken care of, she got back on the elevator and pressed the button that would take her down to the lobby to her meeting with Robyn Correy.

As the elevator doors opened onto the lobby some moments later, she looked around, seeing Robyn walking towards her. Robyn waved to her a little and offered her a hesitant smile.

Tiredly, Obsidiana attempted to imitate the smile, with, she was sure, less success. She told herself to focus, to remember why she was here. This was awkward and uncomfortable, and she all the sudden felt vaguely guilty for not staying in touch with this human. Robyn had left a number of voicemails for her since she and Dominique had separated, but Obsidiana had never quite had the nerve, courage, or inclination to reply to any of them.

"So, hi there." Robyn greeted her as she walked up to Adriana, stopping a step away. Adriana didn't reply at first, just looked into her eyes almost curiously. It made Robyn feel a little nervous... not in a bad way, but mostly just that she didn't know how this was going to go or what to expect from her after all this time. She and Dominique had talked several times, at length, about what had gone wrong between her and this woman...

"Hello, Robyn..." Obsidiana finally said, taking a hesitant step forward and enfolding her lapsed friend in a welcoming hug.

Robyn returned the somewhat awkward hug with relief, letting out a breath and telling herself to relax a bit. It had been a stressful night, after all.

"You know, I think I needed that." Robyn told her as they stepped out of the hug. "So... what's going on?" She asked more seriously.

Obsidiana considered that a moment before speaking. "Dominique was... attacked earlier tonight. By men who answer to David Xanatos." Obsidiana spoke.

Robyn's eyes widened a little. "How... sure are you sure of that?" She asked.

"I'm sure." Obsidiana hedged her answer a little, still feeling on less than certain ground. She hadn't considered until now though, that they rightfully shouldn't be quite as sure of Xanatos's guilt in all of this as she'd assumed. What real proof did they actually have, after all? She trusted Dominique's assessment though, so she didn't voice the doubt aloud. Even if he weren't guilty of it, he was danger enough to them, and with Dominique's reprisal already done and the man likely already dead, there was little enough point in regrets. The thought that there just might possibly be another enemy out there wasn't a pleasant one though...

Robyn wanted to ask her about Eyrie, but thought it wiser not to. She looked back to meet Adriana's eyes. "What can I do?" She asked softly instead.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, Robyn and Adriana walked out of the NYPD's 23rd precinct station house. Dominique hadn't been there, and Adriana had gone silent next to her as they'd walked down the steps. Robyn reached over a hand and touched Adriana's wrist once they'd gone a little ways down the sidewalk towards where they'd parked. Adriana stopped at the gesture and looked to her in question. "Talk to me?" Robyn asked simply.

Obsidiana sighed. "I knew she might not be here." She admitted.

"You warned me. We both knew that going in." Robyn offered as comfort.

"I know." Obsidiana replied.

"You're involved in all of this somehow, aren't you? With... whatever's happening with David Xanatos?" She asked. "Is that why you're back?" She asked.

Obsidiana shook her head. "No, that's... not it at all." She admitted, though she knew she probably shouldn't.

"Then why? Are you... Were you trying to reconcile with her?" She asked.

Obsidiana looked up and met her eyes at that. "No..." She told her. "Not that I wouldn't... welcome that." She confessed.

"...You never called me back after it happened." Robyn ventured carefully.

"It... It was too hard." Obsidiana admitted, looking away and feeling awkward about this all over again.

"I... can well imagine. Or, no, that's not true, maybe I can't. I've... never really been in love I guess. But I... I guess what I'm saying..." She pressed on, taking Adriana's hand up in hers. "Is that I'd still like to be your friend. If you'll have me, I mean?" She offered.

Obsidiana met Robyn's eyes again and opened her mouth as if to reply, then closed it again as she realized she couldn't think of anything to say. She considered a moment. "I..."

"It's alright." Robyn told her, disappointed, but not really surprised. "I care about you, okay?" She told her. "So, whatever you need, alright? If that's distance, then that's distance. I get it." She offered her a hesitant smile.

"I, that is... thank you. I..." She was again at a loss.

"Is there anything more we can do tonight? About trying to find Dominique, I mean?" Robyn asked, not wanting to put Adriana on the spot more than she already had.

Obsidiana, surprised, found herself looking up to meet Robyn's eyes again. "No, I... as I said, she told me she's safe, wherever she is... I only..." She sighed.

"You're worried about her." Robyn told her.

"Yes, I... I've never stopped loving her..." She admitted softly. "I don't... I don't know if I ever will."

Robyn felt her heart break a little for the woman in front of her and she moved forward and took her up in a comforting embrace. "It's okay." She told her softly.

Obsidiana, again surprised, held Robyn back and let herself be comforted. She felt a few tears fall too, but she wasn't proud enough to be embarrassed by it. Somehow, Robyn just... seemed to understand what she needed right now. That was... It was so unexpected, but it was very welcome nonetheless.

Feeling more steady after a time, Obsidiana backed out of the embrace, wiped at her wet cheeks, and offered Robyn her best attempt at a smile. "I... think I might be wise to... call you my friend after all...?" She haltingly admitted, apprehensively meeting Robyn's eyes again.

Robyn smiled to her and nodded. "I'd like that."

Obsidiana smiled and hugged her again, as if to seal their agreement of friendship.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	12. Life Happening Fast

**Brave... Part 12: Life Happening Fast**

* * *

Now dried off and out of sight in the basement of a closed wharf-front bait shop, Jericho Lockland answered the encrypted, waterproof cellular he kept with him at all times. "Yes?" He asked, knowing it would be important. Only twenty-eight people in the world had the number to his phone, the phone was setup to block all but their numbers, and all of them knew not to use the number without good cause.

"It's Echo. I've got a status on Icarus." Tad Borrows reported in. Tad was team lead on the surveillance people he'd put in place to watch Xanatos. He was using codenames, per Lockland's protocol for these things. _Echo_ was Tad's, and _Icarus_ was what they'd assigned to Xanatos. Encryption or not, he'd learned, it never paid to be careless.

"Good, good. Report?" He asked, fully expecting to hear it was job done and the man was so much waste and ash about now.

"He's winded but hale. Heading out to parts unknown by caravan." Tad told him instead.

Jericho cursed violently, sitting down heavily on a storage crate. "What the bloody hell hap- No, never mind that. Just stay on him, keep reporting in on his progress, let me know if he's ever island bound, and be ready to fall back to a safe distance when I give the word, yeah?"

"Understood." Tad answered. Jericho ended the call and took a deep breath.

He looked down to his phone. Unless he missed his guess, Xanatos would be heading to Xanadu, his upstate retreat. That meant, en route, he'd be out in open country. No witnesses—_island bound_.

He dialed the number he needed on his phone. "Yeah?" The voice on the other end of the phone asked.

"Dingo, it's Whisper." He said, using code names again. _Whisper_ was his own, while _Dingo_ was Brice Abernathy's. "Looks like I need your guys after all. Prep your team, I'll have coordinates shortly." He told Nightstone's head of company security.

"I'll be ready." Brice answered. "Finally, a bit of action." He added, ending the call.

* * *

Raven found himself lost in thought a little as he rode in an armored SUV through the country. There were three helicopters in the air fanned out around them, one SUV ahead of them and one behind. David sitting next to him, leaning against him, eyes closed as he rested.

The warmth of him there was certainly pleasing...

He kept going over it again and again in his mind though—that attack, and how close it had come to succeeding—and every time he thought it through again, his hate grew.

Oh, how he wished he were free to act directly. It would be so easy just to end her. Except of course, even if he were foolish enough to risk Titania's wrath by flouting her decree that he not, he was magically bound not to do a thing... He couldn't purposefully hurt her or hers in any way, he couldn't even say the words to ask or extort anyone else to do so. She could even slay the human he'd taken as his lover, and he would be helpless to retaliate... at least, not unless she were foolish enough to attack him as well, by iron or by magic, and, by so doing, allow him the opportunity to _defend_ himself.

He realized then that David had fallen asleep and he gently lowered him to his lap to rest. Would it be so bad, to just wipe away the injury? No... He was pushing it as it was, he told himself. That display of power he'd put on back at the Eyrie Building was already a bit more than he was looking forward to attempting to explain away to his lover later.

No, if David wanted that from him, wanted what he could really offer, then he would have to _earn_ it. And Raven knew his own nature well enough to know that he would not make it easy on this human—no, not easy at all. Besides... If David knew his nature, then he'd want to know his true motivations as well. Raven could lie at that point, of course, but David was clever enough that keeping any further deceptions of that scale going after the first was undone would be a challenge to be sure. One he might not mind so much, if not for the fact that if David _knew_, then it might ruin everything. As it was, he was skirting the limits of Titania's binding on him all too closely. To date, all he'd done was reveal certain truths to David, assist him in certain matters when asked, and protect him, his lover, from danger. David's actions after that had all been of his own free will—to be safe, Raven had even made it a point to question if the attack on her was truly needed. But if David knew his reasons for all of this, then he would be _deliberately_ acting on Raven's behalf to harm Dominique Destine, and Titania's binding would take hold in some fashion—exactly _which_ fashion, he wouldn't know until it happened. The magic could banish him from David's side, cause him pain until her relented, blight both their memories, or even slay David outright as punishment... He shouldn't care so much that that last consequence not happen, and perhaps he didn't? His own feelings on this type of subject were often hard for him to interpret, even to himself.

Still, he was _handsome_, wasn't he? He found himself musing over that as he stroked his lover's hair slightly in fascination. _Handsome_ yes... and a fine lover too. Fascinating in _other_ ways too, many other ways...

Just then, there was an explosion. The SUV swerved, the driver swore, and they skidded to a stop. Then there was the sound of a crash and another explosion.

David was groggily coming awake. Raven swore. "_Stay here_." He commanded furiously, opening the SUV's door and getting out in time to see a second of the helicopters that had been guarding them crash into the nearby trees and the third helicopter being shot down by... humans in flying armor?

David got out of the SUV, against Raven's command.

"Abernathy." David spoke, even as the men guarding him and Nick started firing at the armored assassins. His people were using the latest in Xanatos Industries' state-of-the-art coherent energy beam rifles, but he'd never tested them against Dominique's armored mercenaries before. He'd tried a number of times to obtain the programming that made them work from Cyberbiotics, but he'd been cut off every time. Dominique, on the other hand, was close friends with the _daughter_ of that company's CEO...

* * *

Sophia let out a piercing cry of pleasure, Opalia staying with her until she relaxed limply onto the bed. Rising to come up beside her, Opalia caressed her face and tilted her head over so she could capture her lips in a string of drawn out kisses. Dazedly, Sophia returned the kisses, moaning in contentment, holding Opalia weakly to her.

Opalia, for her part, already having been thoroughly sated by their love-making, only smiled fondly and stroked Sophia's hair as the kisses faded and Sophia drifted off to a light doze.

Opalia held her protectively as her lover drifted in her passion-filled daze, nuzzling into the crook of her neck to kiss her a few times and enjoy the scent of her hair before closing her eyes and resting a little herself. She found herself pleasantly tired, and _very_ pleasantly absent of tension.

She let her mind just go blank and drift while the feelings lasted.

"Mmm..." Sophia hummed huskily as she started to wake a little while later, drawing Opalia's thoughts back to her. "Love you..." Sophia murmured, snuggling in closer to her.

Opalia froze a little. Sophia had never said that before... Did she—could she really mean it now?

Opalia considered nudging her awake to ask her, but decided she didn't want to know. Because it wouldn't make a difference, would it? She was still... She was still planning to find a way back home, back to her true self, back to Sapphira... It seemed so far away though, thinking about it—as though that hope became farther and farther out of reach each day she was... kept here.

Kept here by _Sophia_, she reminded herself. Sophia was _paid_ human money to keep her here, content and pliant... That was a word, a concept, she'd only learned the true meaning of recently, from Sophia—being paid something. She'd known the word for it, Sapphira had told her about it after visiting the human city once, but she hadn't understood—hadn't cared to _try_ to understand. Her people didn't have a use for that word within their clan, and she'd never planned to go near the humans so she hadn't thought it mattered. If another of their clan needed something, it was given if it could be. She still had little idea why the humans would possibly want to have their society function on payments, when it would be so much simpler, freer, better, to just share what they had. It wasn't as though there were too few resources to go around, and even if there were it would be a simple matter to ration what they had and have fewer children until the imbalance was corrected. The way the humans went about things, it seemed... frighteningly _insane_...

Sophia stirred again and blinked her eyes open. Opalia moved up to gaze curiously down into her lover's eyes, that _Love you_ still dancing in her thoughts, inescapable, but hard to deal with.

Sophia reached up and trailed a hand through Opalia's hair. "You amaze me, you... You know that?" Sophia told softly, her voice thick with emotion.

"I do?" She asked, shifting down onto her, their chests crushing together pleasantly.

"Yeah, I..." She closed her eyes a moment. Then she whispered very softly. "I'm in love with you, Opal..."

Opalia gasped softly.

"I know um," She stroked Opalia's hair again. "I know you don't feel the same way, and that's okay. I mean, I get it. Of course I get it. If I were in your position, I know I wouldn't... I just... I needed you to know how I feel anyway..." She told her. "I needed you to know... I really am on your side."

Opalia couldn't stay this close to her anymore, so she rolled off her lover and sat up. Sophia turned onto her side and sat up too, tucking her legs under her. She reached out and touched Opalia's cheek, cupping it when Opalia didn't pull away, tilting her chin so their eyes met again. "Hey... Talk to me, okay? Please?" She asked.

Opalia sighed. "I have nothing to say yet." She told her honestly.

Sophia quirked a little of a smile. "No, huh?" She asked, letting her hand fall away, looking down at Opalia's legs a moment. "Listen... I uh," She looked up and met Opalia's eyes again. "I heard just before I came in: David Xanatos... He's on his way here, now."

Opalia started, fear and fury starting to roil in her at just the mention of that name, much less that he was coming here. She immediately fantasied again about killing him, choking him to death with her own claws... _fingers_, she reminded herself. She had fingers now. "Why?" She asked Sophia, her voice sharp, soft, and vicious. She wondered if she should feel betrayed somehow, that Sophia hadn't told her at first, but... She didn't feel that. Instead, she was almost grateful for the reprieve... Even as she realized it might all be a manipulation, even Sophia's profession of love—it could just be a way to keep her off balance and compliant while her _employer_ was here. _Why_ was he here though? Had he thought of some new test? Some new use for her? Or was she finally to learn what his use in keeping her here in comfort all this time was, even after the tests and experiments he'd put her through had been done?

"Why? Why is he coming here, you mean?" Sophia asked gently.

Opalia nodded.

"There was an attack. There was an explosion at the Eyrie Building. Apparently, he barely made it out alive." Sophia explained.

"...He's looking for sanctuary then?" She almost laughed aloud at that. Fleeing those who wanted him dead, only to take refuge with someone who had more reason than any to want him dead every bit as much? It would be absurd, if she thought for a second he'd give her the chance to live out her fantasy of his death at her hands. She could do it though, she was more than strong enough, especially during the day when the sun gave her it's power. Even as a human, she still fed from it somehow—from the sunlight. During the day, she would be stronger than _any_ human. Not that that would matter against tasers, guns, or knives...

"Yeah." Sophia told her, nodding. "I guess... Someone wants him dead in a bad way."

Opalia _did_ laugh at that. "I wish them good fortune with it then." She told her bitterly.

Sophia smiled, pain and sympathy in her expression. "I wish..."

Her cellular phone rang then, and Sophia went to retrieve it from the nightstand where she'd put it after stripping out of her clothing before. "Arden here." She answered the phone, switching to English.

She listened to someone on the other end of the line speaking.

"What? _Fuck_, no... yeah. Yeah, understood... Understood." She told the person she was talking to. "Good luck, Chris." She finished softly, ending the call and taking a deep breath.

Tense, but needing reassurance of some kind, Opalia found herself moving closer to her lover and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are... Are you all right? What's going on?" She asked.

"I just..." She began in Spanish again, seeming to decide something then, setting her shoulders. She turned and abruptly kissed Opalia then.

Startled, Opalia let her. "I'm getting you out of here Opal—now, _today_." She told her when the quick, intense kiss ended, her eyes bright and determined. There was something like relief or genuine... _joy_ in her voice too, that took Opalia completely off guard.

"I... Sophia, what?" Opalia asked, even as Sophia started to move, getting off the bed and hurriedly searching around for her clothes that were still strewn about the room from the show she'd put on of taking them off for her earlier.

"I've been trying—I have." Sophia told her. "All this time, but, well, I didn't want to get your hopes up—but _now_..."

"Now what?" Opalia asked, trying to decide if this was real—if she could _trust_ it.

"Damn it, Opal, get some clothes on—_fast_." Sophia admonished her, turning to look at her as she got into her pants.

"I... Al-alright..." Opalia agreed, going to the closet.

"Jeans and your thickest jacket, for the motorcycle." Sophia insisted.

"I will, only explain yourself." Opalia insisted on something herself.

"Right, right. They tried again, Opal. Xanatos, they're trying to kill him again _right now_. That's what I was just told—most of the guards here were called away to the scene to pull him out, there's only going to be a few here left. It's got to be now, Opal—we'll never get a better chance. I'm... I'm taking you home, Opal, I promise. Or someplace where you can be free at least." Sophia told her as she got on her shoes.

Opalia's mind and heart were racing. This was happening—it was really happening. She was going _home_! Sophia... She hadn't lied, she... Sophia really did love her...

She paused a moment, and looked at Sophia's back across the room. Where would they go? They were near Manhattan, she reminded herself. Near Dominique Destine. They'd go there. Dominique would protect her, send her home, but... Sophia... Guilt twisted in her at having doubted her as badly as she had, and at the thought of abandoning her to return to Guatemala and Sapphira, turning away from her after she was willing to do _this_ for her... She made herself stop thinking those things though. It wasn't the time. Once she was free—once her life was truly her own again—_then_ she would decide what to do...

She met Sophia's eyes as she put on the cold-weather jacket Sophia had gotten for her for her walks through the forest. Sophia smiled at first, but then looked hesitant at what she saw on Opalia's face. Opalia let out a breath, smiled a genuine smile, and went over to hug her. "Thank you." She told her with soft, deep sincerity.

"...You're, um... You're welcome, Opal." She told her, that quality of voice, like she was freeing _herself_ too, doing more to give Opalia confidence than anything.

They kissed fiercely then, but briefly. "What next?" Opalia asked.

Sophia smiled softly and touched her hair. "Just follow me, do what I say, and... be ready to fight if we have to."

Opalia nodded. "I... I trust you." She told her, realizing that it was true now.

Sophia smiled. "Here's just hoping I'm not getting us both killed stupidly then."

"I'm willing to risk it." Opalia told her.

Sophia smiled daringly and took her hand. "Then, lover mine, I think it's time we left, don't you?"

She lead the way through to the living area, to the door out of Opalia's rooms. "Sophia Arden: Open." She spoke to the door, the security system recognizing her voice and opening the door for them.

Sophia let go of her hand then and quickly went through the door, twisting the guard on duty there around and hitting him with her taser, helping his unconscious body down to the ground and taking his taser, a handgun, and a knife from him, offering the second taser over to Opalia as she emerged from the room. The guard's name had been Jake Taylor—Opalia knew the names of all the guards stationed here with her, thanks to Sophia. Jake, she recalled Sophia telling her once, liked to play cards and complain about his former wife, and how little he got to see his daughter.

Opalia took the offered weapon with relish, smiling in appreciation to her lover for trusting her with it. It felt so good not to be so _helpless_ anymore. "The trigger to use it is here." Sophia showed her.

Opalia nodded.

"Okay. Stay close behind me." Sophia instructed.

Opalia nodded again, wishing it were day so that she'd have more strength to offer to their escape effort. As it was now, she probably wasn't any stronger than Sophia was, and she wasn't as well trained a fighter. She'd had instruction growing up, but that had been as a gargoyle—she'd learned quickly during her escape attempts how little that translated to being able defend herself as a human.

They went down the hallway towards a side exit to the house, near the garage.

Making their way across the garage, Opalia stiffened as she heard the door behind them slam open. "Stop right there, Arden!" A deep male voice commanded in English. Opalia whirled to face the threat, brandishing her taser. The man, Harold something (Opalia couldn't remember his surname at the moment), leveled a directed energy rifle at Sophia over her shoulder.

"No!" Opalia cried defiantly, moving to block his line of sight with her own body.

"You think I won't?" He asked, but, as he was speaking English, Opalia didn't understand the words. She stared him down and advanced on him though, growling softly under her breath and hoping he would be under orders not to kill her.

"She can't understand." The woman who'd followed him, Jane Alebrook, in told him. She had a taser out, her own rifle slung over her back.

"Right, no English." Harold grumbled, advancing on her quickly.

Opalia watched him determinedly and lunged forward at him with her taser when she thought she saw the best opening she was likely going to get. All the while scared that she wouldn't be enough, and that, while she'd end up back as a prisoner, they'd _kill_ Sophia if she let it happen.

Her best effort wasn't enough though. Harold used the handle of the rifle he held as a club and knocked the taser from her hand, knocking her over the head with it before she could realize what was happening. She hit the concrete floor with a painful thud, looking up in time to see and hear the shot as a bullet from Sophia's appropriated handgun hit him in his forehead over his left eye. Harold's dead body fell backwards. "Disarm, Jane—do it now." Sophia commanded. They were friends, Sophia and Jane, Opalia remembered. Not good friends, but friends. Jane had _very bad taste in men_, she remembered Sophia telling her once.

Jane did as she was told, seeming to take Sophia's threat seriously. As she did, Opalia picked up her fallen taser and walked over to Jane, striking her none-too-gently in the gut with it with not just a little satisfaction. Jane cried out and went limp in her arms and Opalia laid her down on the floor. Jane had done this to her once, on one of her escape attempts—the just retaliation felt therapeutic. As she turned back to look at Sophia, she saw her looking coldly at Harold. "I never liked him, you know." She said with quiet steel. Opalia remembered the man's surname then—Harold _Slone_. She remembered Sophia telling her that he was an insufferable, stubborn ass who thought he knew better than everyone else, even God, Jesus, and all the angels in heaven. She remembered too asking Sophia at the time who God, Jesus, and all the angels in heaven _were_... She _still_ was puzzling a little over the answer Sophia had given her to _that_ question. It reminded her how _strange_ humans were. She was just lucky one had finally decided to take her side, she supposed.

Their eyes met then, and Opalia saw that sharp edge to her lover she'd guessed at was a lot closer to the surface than she'd ever shown it in her presence before. Sophia visibly steadied herself and gentled her gaze though. "Come on, love." Her lover told her with soft intensity. "We need to go."

Opalia nodded, following along to the other side of the garage where there was a door. When she followed Sophia through, she saw her lover getting onto a motorcycle and starting its engine. "Get on behind me and hold tight." Sophia told her, looking around them instead of at her, as though worried more guards would come.

"Are there more of your people still on the grounds?" Opalia asked as she got on the bike behind her lover.

"Don't know for sure." Sophia told her. "But we aren't waiting around to find out." And, so saying, they accelerated forward over the rocks and grass, onto the driveway, and down onto the road that would lead them away from Xanadu.

Opalia snuggled in close to her rescuer, gazing at woods and the road in front of them, illuminated by the bike's headlight, as they raced along. In the distance, she faintly heard an explosion. She only hoped that was the sound of a richly deserved death for the man who'd kept her captive all this time.

_Free_, she thought to herself. At last, she was _free_...

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	13. At Home With Her Thoughts

**Brave... Part 13: At Home With Her Thoughts**

* * *

Robyn Correy sighed with relief as she entered her apartment and set her purse down on the floor beside the door. Closing the door, her jacket still in her arms, she leaned back against the door and gave herself a little time to decompress and think.

It had been a long, very long day. First the alert Dominique had called, with its accompanying lockdown, then her having stayed to oversee things, and then finally, surprisingly, her trip down to the police station with Adriana Estrada... Their talk afterwards had been... a little confusing to her honestly, at least in the feelings it had brought up. She and Adriana had always seemed to identify with one another, right from the start, though she wasn't at all sure why. She'd never told Adriana, or Dominique for that matter, the truth of her past, for obvious reasons. Equally obvious to her was the reasons why both Adriana and Dominique wouldn't share the truth about their own pasts—they were both gargoyles (or, at least she was mostly sure that Adriana was—she was _completely_ sure Dominique was, of course).

Was Adriana an orphan too? She wondered.

She had a lot of responsibility at her job now, been given a lot of trust by Dominique... by her friend... Her job title was _vice president of operations_, but that basically boiled down to her being Dominique's second, or perhaps third, in command. She had a counterpart in Guatemala—Turquesa Marquez, who could also technically overrule her (though a situation had yet to arise where that technicality was put to use). Turquesa generally kept to running Nightstone Unlimited's South America subsidiary, Eterna Corp, and left the rest of the company to her and Dominique. Her and Turquesa talked by phone fairly regularly, and had met in person a few times. Turquesa was standoffish, but unfailingly kind and honorable, only rarely evidencing the hard edge to her personality that she could have.

Her position meant that everyone at Nightstone, excepting Eterna, and with the notable exception of Brice Abernathy (and perhaps a few others of his type), answered to her, and only Dominique could overrule her (though she only very rarely did). It was a rewarding, fulfilling job... if sometimes tiring. Oh, there were a few other vice presidents within the company hierarchy, a few department heads, but somehow she'd actually ended up earning Dominique Destine's trust more than any of them had. Robyn was fairly certain by this point that Dominique—the Demon—had come to trust her more than any other human being.

It had been wholly... unexpected... how easy it had been. Starting out, she'd expected the worst, honestly she had.

Oh, in the beginning, the first few weeks when she'd started working at her company, Dominique had been fairly cold to her, that was true—even a bit suspicious, as she often could be with most humans—but even then she'd never gotten angry with her, never even reproached her... and, as time went on, she'd come to rely on her, trust her, all the more. To where now... Now it was... Well, she'd never had a best friend before, but... despite everything that should have stood in the way, and all that still did stand in the way, that's what Dominique had become to her. It had definitely been a very unexpected surprise to her when she'd come to realize it had happened, and more, it had made her question where her loyalties lay. Question how justified her family's vendetta really was—not that she'd told her brothers that of course. There hadn't been a need, not yet.

She still had time, thankfully... or, she'd thought she had. Maybe now though, time was running out?

She sighed, going to hang her jacket up and then heading to her kitchen to get a drink of water.

To tell the truth, she'd mostly been trying not to think about it. Tonight hadn't made that easy though. Tonight seemed to encapsulate her conflicted loyalties to a tee. Tonight she'd seen what was likely tangible evidence of the violence Dominique could be capable of, seen it there, right before her eyes for the first time, and it... had scared her—gotten to her, honestly it had. On the other hand, Dominique had done those sorts of things often enough before... Oh, nothing so flagrant within the bounds of the United States or other such countries of course, but she'd done them nonetheless, and Robyn had known well enough what was going on. Dominique had done those things for good reasons though—reasons Robyn, if she were being truthful with herself, usually fully approved of.

It was a violent world, in large part—she'd been brought up knowing that if anyone had. She had only to look at Guatemala though, at the surrounding region, to have equally tangible proof that the ends justified Dominique's means. She's saved far more lives—_human_ lives—made far more lives better than she could possibly have taken in the doing... and those lives she'd taken? Had _any_ of them actually been deserving of the lives they'd had, or had they, by how they'd lived them, forfeited their rights to mercy? To her mind, they had. She'd never lost sleep over the deaths of warlords, human traffickers, violent insurgents, terrorists, rapists, drug sellers, or the greedy men Dominique competed with who created such poverty in the world by their hoardings and various degradations. Dominique was better than any of them, because she lifted people up, didn't tear them down... Much more often than not, she'd found herself very _proud _of the work she was doing at Nightstone.

She got out a glass, and went to the sink.

Unless it was all some sort of elaborate ruse on Dominique's part, and she truly did have some dire sort of ends in all of this, as they'd first suspected—_warmongering_ or a the creation of a _global pandemic_ or something else equally as catastrophic. Every day though, that had come to seem less and less likely, hadn't it? What sort of goal like that could she have that she'd wait so long to inflict it upon the world—a total genocide against the entire _human race_? Jason had forwarded the prospect once, telling them the Demon had always hated human kind. Robyn just couldn't credit that though—it was a ridiculous, paranoid idea that was put lie to every time she laid eyes on the woman. Every fond smile Dominique bestowed upon her, every time her eyes lit up with happiness, warmth, and trust when she laid eyes on her in return... every conversation they had, and small trust they shared. Dominique laughed at her jokes, they went out to eat together, or camped out in one of their offices for a working lunch when they didn't have the time for more than that, and she would talk with her about nearly anything at all, except the secrets they both kept. They teased each other too, always good-naturedly, and Dominique was hopeless about so many ordinary human things (though steadily less as time went on), but she never took offense when Robyn told her kindly that she wasn't doing something the way it ought to be done. Those things were wholly genuine, Robyn had to believe that they _must_ be. Not only was it unbelievable to her that Dominique was a good enough actress to fake all of that, but she couldn't fathom why she would?

She poured herself that glass of water.

Her family had been Dominique's—the _Demon's_—enemy for at least a thousand years. Her family's legends were full of all sorts of tales about her, each more wild or chilling than the last, but unless they all were true and then some, she couldn't credit a _fifth_ of them as being true. Not about the woman she'd come to know. Not unless she really were somehow a true demon from hell who lied as easily as she breathed and who would fool her this way for no other reason than just the pleasure she'd take from the cruelty and the twist of it that Robyn would feel when she finally found out that it had all been a lie in the end—not unless it was the Demon's jest to make her, one of the family that had plagued and harried her all this time, complicit in whatever grand, evil scheme she had. Again, it was an utterly ridiculous, completely paranoid way to look at it... In the beginning, it had all been far more reasonable sounding to her young mind of course. No talk of global genocide or any such thing. Just a... just a wicked monster who killed people in the night—a wicked monster who'd killed her da.

She took a long slip of water and leaned against the kitchen counter, considering this—considering her life, really. She'd been doing it a lot recently, in the privacy of her own home, or even just the privacy of her own mind. Either doing that or trying not to do that... more the latter than the former, if she were honest.

She very much wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the very idea of any such evil scheme actually existing of course, but, still, even now, there was a small part of her that wondered, just wondered, if she really was that much of a fool? If she really was just blind and gullible and missing something that was right in front of her? Oh, likely not a real-life hellish plot, not warmongering or a pandemic or a genocide, but maybe something almost as bad...? or even something Dominique honestly thought was a good end from her perspective, but that human kind might think otherwise about in one fashion or another?

Again, she didn't want to think so—and she _didn't_ think so, actually. Not at all. She just... wondered sometimes... if she could trust her own feelings... that's all... It was probably just that the things we're told as children—especially the cruel, thoughtless, or _misguided_ things—they're always the hardest to shake, aren't they?

Because the truth was that she _did_ trust Dominique... Trusted her quite a lot, actually... or, mostly trusted her anyway... Not enough to let her know about her family history quite yet, obviously, but maybe she _should_ trust her about that? It was far from the first time she'd thought about that—about telling her. Part of her wanted Dominique to be the one to go first, to tell her that she was a gargoyle, at least... but then, that was hardly fair of her, was it? No, it really probably wasn't—not if, as she'd come to believe, Dominique was actually the one that was in the right in all of this. It was just hard to think that she was disappointing her family, her brothers, and the legacy they all shared, the vow they'd made. Even as a child, she hadn't so much bought in to the things her father had said—hadn't bought into the family _legacy_ the way Jason had—the way her mother had too. John had been too young to remember their father so well, but she and Jason did... and, she had changed her mind, felt guilty, when their father had died. She'd felt like she'd betrayed him, betrayed their family, that... it, their father's death, their mother's disappearance months before, that it might have all been her fault somehow, because she hadn't believed. As she'd grown up, she'd outgrown thoughts like that... mostly, or she'd told herself so at least. She'd followed along when Jason had led them in their little _quest for truth_ readily enough though, hadn't she? Honestly though, she knew she'd really done it more for Jason than anything to do with her father or her family's legacy—she hadn't even done it for that childish guilt she'd felt—no, she'd done it because she hadn't wanted to lose more of her family. Because she hadn't wanted to be alone. Oh, she'd cared about avenging their father too, when she'd honestly thought that the Demon might have murdered him in cold blood, might even have been responsible for their mother's absence and probable death as well somehow. She did have a sense of justice in her. She just didn't think that Dominique could be guilty of those things anymore, and, maybe too, she'd done more growing up as well—gotten to know her own mind more than she had before.

John, she thought—John would be easier to convince. Jason though—the thought of the look of betrayal on Jason's face that might be there if she came out to him and told him that she'd made friends, maybe even _best_ friends, with their supposed worst enemy?

But that's what this had all started out to prove though, hadn't it? She and her brothers, Jason and John, they'd seen the good works Dominique Destine was doing in the world of late, and they'd confirmed to themselves that she was, actually, the Demon they'd been hunting for—that she'd somehow found a way to assume the shape of a human woman. Had she always been able to do that? There had been no way to know. They'd argued over the implications though. None of the three of them were as blindly committed to their legacy as their father had been, even Jason. They'd all, to varying degrees, wanted to know if killing Dominique Destine was really the right thing to do—if she really were a monster, a _Demon_, as they'd been taught?

So they'd made their plans to find out, and here she was, wasn't she?

But, come to now, and, even with the attack on the Eyrie Building earlier... She knew what David Xanatos was like, and she'd far sooner take Dominique's word, take her side, than she would his. Even Jason would surely be forced to make allowances and concessions on _that_ point. Even now, she was realizing, she trusted Dominique—believed in her.

So, she was left with that same old question: What if they'd been wrong? What if she and her brothers, her entire family, were really the villains in all of this, instead of the righteous and noble _heroes_ she'd been told they were growing up? What then?

Because, really, it seemed to her like they probably _were_... One thing was sure though, and today had made it more clear than ever before: She had to know, finally know for dead sure, one way or the other—was Dominique Destine really her enemy, or was she, as she believed, her best friend, and her family's vendetta all a lie?

The way to do that was obvious. The only way, the only thing she had left to do: she had to tell Dominique her secrets—have it all out with her.

Clear the air, right and proper.

Yes sir, that's what she had to do.

Sometime.

Soon.

If she was wrong, well then Dominique... would turn into a gargoyle and kill her and her brothers would have proof positive at last that the woman was bad news (as small a comfort to her own dead self as _that_ would be).

But that wouldn't happen, she was sure it wouldn't.

She just... wasn't quite so sure that Dominique wouldn't feel very betrayed by it and fire her over it or something—that she'd stop being her friend. Or... you know, maybe put her in a _cage_ somewhere for a while because she would be a _security risk_ to her clan or something... And all of this was ignoring the rather heavy fact that it wasn't actually just her own secret to tell. There was John and Jason to consider, wasn't there? And the unfortunate fact that Jason was, even now, _ostensibly_ working for David Xanatos, the man who'd apparently just tried to have Dominique killed or abducted... which, yes, it was true, did not look _at all_ good, now did it...?

It was with these thoughts in her mind that she made her decision: She'd go into her living room, turn on the TV, watch part of a movie, wind down until she thought she could get enough sleep to qualify as at least a long _nap_, and leave the revelations for the later. Cowardly? Maybe a little, but it wasn't like standing in her kitchen and brooding about it was going to actually _do_ anything, now was it? Other than maybe ruin her chances of having a nice peaceful sleep with what little remained of her night.

When she turned on the light in her livingroom though, a knock sounded at her door.

With a sigh, she put down her water on her coffee table and went to see who it was. At the door, she looked through the peephole and _saw_ who it was. She felt a headache coming on, just at the sight. She really didn't want to deal with this now.

She unlocked and opened the door though, coming face to face with her little brother. She gave him her best effort at a warm smile. "Hello, John." She greeted him, going in to give him a firm hug in greeting. "Waiting for me down in the parking garage again, were you?" She asked. A little on the creepy side maybe, but she had to admit that it _was_ the only way he could know when she got home on short notice. She took the elevator straight up, usually not stopping on the first floor unless it was to grab something quick at the bistro there, or pay her rent or something.

"Your fault for not giving me a key." He told her a little defensively, playing his part as he hugged her back.

"Right, so you say." She told him. Despite that she knew this was going to undoubtedly be a trial of a conversation, Robyn found she was just plain glad to see him after all.

"Hi, cous." He greeted her, changing the topic as the hug parted. "Long time, no see." He used the same sort of American accent she'd started to use regularly when she'd taken on the name _Robyn Correy_ for her job at Nightstone. John didn't have the same sort of steady cover she and Jason did. Instead, he was a man of many names, many identities. The one he was affecting how was that of John Correy, Robyn Correy's wandering, irresponsible cousin who visited her sometimes and asked her for money, or a bed for the night.

"And whose fault is that?" She chided him playfully, acting her part, more for the tease and to indulge her brothers than for any real likelihood that she could see of them being observed or spied upon on her own doorstep. Her condo took up the entirety of the building's second floor, after all. She had no neighbors about. There was always the possibility of surveillance, of course, but she took precautions for that (and for her personal security) on Dominique's insistence. Of course, that being the case, neither Jason not John trusted that Dominique _herself_ wasn't listening in. Thus the inevitable next words out of John's mouth.

"All mine." He agreed. "When you're right, you're right. Let me make it up to you though—there's a coffee place down in the lobby that's open all night?" He offered. "My treat?"

She laughed. "Deal. But I'm ordering tea. I've had enough coffee tonight." And she had. She wasn't usually one to indulge in the brew overmuch, but she had tonight.

"Fine by me." He agreed.

Luckily, she hadn't gotten around to taking off her shoes quite yet. She put her coat back on and grabbed her purse. "Lead on."

And so he did... and so, in short enough order, she found herself placing her order at the building's bistro at lobby level some minutes later.

She ordered chamomile tea, some red grapes, and a piece of tiramisu that she found she wasn't quite able to resist at this point, while John ordered an almond latte, a pita bread chicken salad sandwich, and a bar of mint flavored artisanal dark chocolate. She happened to know that the building's bistro contracted out for the deli selections, to a very decent place a few blocks away, but that they made their own desserts—which were _amazing_.

It was all premade and there weren't so many other customers about—though this being Manhattan, and infamous for being a city that doesn't sleep, there were _some_. But that was fine, because they'd never been destined for one of the cozy little tables or booths that the bistro had on offer, she'd known that.

No, instead, with a feigned invitation on John's part to have a walk while they chatted and picnic outside, they took their late-night bounty to go and headed wordlessly out to John's SUV.

It was a fair walk down to where he'd parked and Robyn sipped at her tea as they went, John likewise with his coffee. It was a comfortable silence it was, the kind close family could manage, even if they didn't see each other as often as they might wish for any longer. She considered breaking the silence with a bit of chatter, but they'd be talking enough soon, and she rather liked the peace of the night and rather appreciated the added time to collect her thoughts. Maybe John did too, because he didn't say a word either.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	14. Friendship's Cost

**Brave... Part 14: Friendship's Cost**

* * *

When they got to John's SUV, he opened the passenger side door for her and she got in, putting her tea in a nearby cup holder and her small to-go bag in her lap. John got in across from her and closed the door behind him, putting his coffee next to her tea and turning on the overhead cabin light as he did. It was a big sort of vehicle, spacious you know. Just a bit chilly perhaps, but it was a fairly warm night and she had her coat on.

"So..." She started. "I... take it you've news to share?" She asked.

The corners of his mouth went up a bit in something that was almost a smile. "You doubted it?" He questioned.

"Oh, far from it, brother mine." She scoffed. "Worse than a hen in a henhouse, that's you."

He did smile then. "So you say."

"So I do. But, well, are you going to be out with it then?" She asked. "Some of us would like to catch something at least vaguely resembling a nap tonight, if you don't mind."

He shook his head. "I really have missed you, Robyn." He told her fondly.

"And so have I you, Johnny boy. So have I you." She told him tiredly.

"Is it that bad?" He asked.

She sighed. "No. No, it's not. I'm just tired." And worried for a friend, she considered to herself. She still hadn't heard from Dominique and she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit it was weighing on her still. Enough that she'd felt guilty just going home as she had, but, well... there hadn't exactly been anything more she could do but deprive herself of sleep for the _entire_ night, which would do neither her nor Dominique Destine any good at all, now would it?

"I can imagine. I can imagine you and Jason are probably in about the same boat that way, actually." He offered.

"True, true." She admitted.

"So, as stated, I've news..." He ventured.

"You've heard from him then?" She asked, referring to their oldest brother, as if there could be any doubts.

He nodded. "He's still at it over there, even now. In terms of his _job_, this might easily land on him if he doesn't get results. Which, as you'd likely be imaging, would be partly why I'm here talking with you at this hour as I am. Jason thinks this... situation, if you can call it that, might be a tipping point for us, if we play it right. He thinks that either David Xanatos struck first and this is just reprisals on the Demon's part, something vaguely in the realm of self-defense, however extreme, and... whatever the costs were... or he thinks that maybe Xanatos _found out_ something. Something the Demon's planning, something like what we've always thought she could be up to. If that's it, then she's desperate to have gone to these lengths and you need to step up your game, _cousin_, because she's never going to be more distracted than she is right now and... if she really is up to something as horrid as all that, then we need to know before she's got the chance to see it through, don't we? So we can be about stopping her. So we can be about having our justice." He told her.

Robyn closed her eyes, wishing this all would go away. "Wait... What was that you said about _costs_ there? That sounded like-"

"A man's dead." John interrupted her.

"Some assassin though, yes?" She asked.

He shook his head. "A working man—a janitor. He'd been working the floor below and the roof came down on him."

"Fuck..." She spoke. She usually didn't like to swear, but just... _fuck_.

"That's about the size of it, yeah..." He admitted. "Makes you think it's our fault a little, doesn't it? That... you know, if... If we'd done as we were supposed to, done what dad wanted, what's the Canmore legacy, then..."

She looked up at him, angry at that. "Then what?" She challenged. "All our ancestors going back to who knows when have been trying it, haven't they? Trying to be the Demon's death—how far'd they get, exactly? Oh, that's right, they all failed utterly, didn't they? ...What makes you think we'd do any better if we'd tried? What makes you think more janitors and working men wouldn't be dead in the trying? What makes you think _you_... What makes you think you wouldn't be, or Jason, or me... Just like mum and da?" She asked plaintively.

"Robyn..." John started, looking a bit small.

She knew she'd hit him where it hurt with that one. She did. He always was insecure about this, about her and Jason. He'd been the youngest of course, when it had happened, and it seemed he'd always carry the worry of losing more of his family to this _calling_ of theirs. She could relate of course—Jason and John were her only family as well after all, and if she lot them... If it did happen though, she was sure it would be heart-wrenchingly terrible, but she thought, in the end, she'd be able to manage it. Jason as well, though the anger in his heart might kill him in the end. John though, well, he had never been a strong one that way. This supposed _hunt_ of theirs wasn't good for him, it really wasn't. Her and Jason could handle it well enough, but she often wanted to just quit the whole thing—for John's sake, even if she hadn't become fast friends with the woman they were meant to be after. It was one of the reasons why the idea that it could all be a lie, that Dominique Destine wasn't really the monster they'd been raised to believe she was, had such an appeal for her. If it were true, then they could just give this up, be a normal family again—have lives, marry, have children, without worrying that by doing so, they'd be dooming those sons and daughters to this same sort of life, as their father and mother had done to them. "I'm sorry, John. That... I shouldn't have said it that way, I know." She told him.

He smiled, looking wounded but being brave about it. "Maybe not... Don't make you wrong though, does it?" He had to admit. "I mean... we've all thought it, or I certainly have at least."

"You think Jason might not have?" She asked, hoping to lighten the mood just a bit if she could.

He smiled to her then. "Well now, there's a question, isn't it?" He joked. "...But, no, he's thought it. You know he has."

"Yeah, I know." She admitted, the two of them falling silent for a beat.

"...It was hard on you just now, wasn't it?" He finally asked. "Finding out she killed an innocent man like that?" He questioned, knowing he was venturing into uncertain waters. He knew well enough that, well, that the Demon might have earned Robyn sympathies to a degree. He couldn't have missed the signs... He'd often wondered just what she was really like, this Demon of theirs. He'd... never gotten up the courage to really ask her, not for real. Oh, they'd asked, he and Jason, of course they had, but they'd both let their sister play it off to one extent or another... He'd read Dominique Destine's background information, and he'd had to admit: All the charity work? Everything she'd done in Central America especially? Despite that she'd been so heavy-handed about it, well, the United States and a few partner countries of theirs had ran those sorts of interventions in the world at times, hadn't they? Called it all humanitarian or a moral act? They'd been not less bloody and more besides, and with not nearly the positive result. If he'd not had proof, he'd... be hard pressed to think of the Demon from their family's old tales and journals and Dominique Destine, world-renowned crusading philanthropist, as being one and the same. If he'd had Robyn's bit in all of this and the woman had turned out to be a genuinely agreeable sort of person to boot, he wondered just how _objective_ he'd have been able to stay? ...If you could ever stay objective in a situation that had to do with the death of your parents, that was... He tended to have his doubts...

She looked at him then and considered what to say. "It's... a bit of a bitter pill. Yeah." She admitted.

"No, I mean- it's more than that, isn't it?" He asked, looking uncomfortable. "I... Just between us, I won't tell Jason if you don't want me doing, will you tell me what she's like with you? I mean, what she's really like with you?"

She sighed. She looked at him and felt her guts twisting a bit inside. She couldn't do it though, him looking at her so open and kind and innocent. She'd never been much good at telling him no when he got to looking at their that way, even when they'd been kids. "...She's my friend, John." She told him. "And that's just the plain, hard truth of it. She's my friend, maybe the best one I've ever had. We talk, she makes me laugh, she's unfailingly kind to me, I..." She caught herself before she admitted to loving her—but she did though, most likely. Not in a romantic way, but... it was love anyway, or probably it was. "I know she can... be a hard person. And I know it's horrible—what she did tonight, if she really did do it? I don't know... I mean, it's tragic yes, but it's happened in my own back yard, you know?"

"It's murder, Robyn." John interrupted. "You don't get to shoot two military grade rockets into a building in the middle of a city and get to say, _oh, well, I didn't mean for innocent bystanders to die_... It doesn't work that way, and you know that as well as I do."

"Of course I bloody well know that, John." She told him, frustrated. "But I knew damned well she did things like this—heaven help me, I've probably helped her do it more than once. I'm not saying it's... I'm not saying I'm proud of it. I don't think she'd... I don't think she'd ever say she was either, but... It's for a greater cause, John. You... You know the good she does in the world. Well, I know it too, and more, I've seen it. I've been to Central America, and I've seen good people walking the streets with food in their bellies, proper shoes on their feet, and not needing to worrying for the safety of their young ones. Did some bad folks have to die to make that a reality? They surely did, but it's better than good folks having to die and suffer in greater numbers for worse lives all around. Did some of those good folks end up getting caught in that crossfire? Maybe—I'd expect some did, and that's a sad thing. A very sad thing... but that doesn't mean she's a Demon, and it... it doesn't make it all her fault, or all my fault either for that matter. Wouldn't have been any need for any dying at all if the fuckers who think a gun makes them a god of who lives and who dies, makes them think they get to decide who starves, who gets raped, who's mum gets killed, whose da, who's kids... I've seen the pattern, John. Those are the kind of people to blame for these things if anyone is, and those are the kinds of people Dominique fights against every day. If she's done this thing now, I'll need more than just some tall tales our great, greats, and great, great, greats've handed down to convince me that she's really the one to blame for this, and not David Xanatos."

She looked at him with defiance, but was also willing him to—hoping that he'd—understand.

John shook his head. "You really believe all that, don't you?" He asked, not really needing her to answer. "You... You trust her that much? Are you- Have you even really been trying all this time? To find her secrets? To... To bring an end to all this?"

She sighed. "Maybe not as much as I should be these last months, I'd admit." She confessed, because it was true, and it had been going on for longer than she'd like to exactly confess to just now. "But I have _looked_ John. I've rooted around in her metaphorical cupboards more than I'm proud of, and I _keep_ looking every day. I'm right there, right at the heart of it, and I _see_ her just about every day too. She's a good friend to me, you know? Just... You know, and she can make me laugh without even trying sometimes, make me feel like my heart's light, and maybe I do that for her as well, and, well, and I see the weight she carries too, and I see... I see that she's sad for, I don't know, a lot of reasons I'd have to think. She's sad a lot, John, and I don't think, I really can't imagine she wants any more reasons to feel that way. Maybe... I don't know- Maybe in the beginning, whenever that was, there could have been some truth to the stories. Maybe she really has done some of the things we'd thought she had, but she's... She's been alive for a very long time. Lifetimes, John... if she was that person, that Demon, who's to say she is any longer? Who's to say she wants to be?" She gave him a hard look now. "And who's to say any of its even true at all. You've got to wonder sometimes—wonder if... if maybe it's all been a lie, don't you think? I mean what if it is—what if _we're_ the ones who've been _persecuting_ her without good cause? What if we're in the wrong on all of this, and she's simply been justifiably angry with those who've been trying to kill her because of it? There's no proof, and that's why we're here, isn't it? Because there's not? Because we wanted to know if we were doing the right thing? Well I don't have quite the rosy memories of old da as Jason does, I don't know if I've said. He was a hard man, John. A hard man, with not much warmth about him. And aye, I looked up to him, the way all little girls probably do, the way all little boys probably do too with their da, but that's just that. That's just a child looking at a grown man and making up a fairytale about him because we can never, never really know. It's—can you imagine it? If I had a little girl, all cute and button-nosed and smiling and asking me things? I like to think I'd do a fair job, but, but she wouldn't hardly know me at all, would she? Maybe she'd know me more than I knew our da, and maybe not, and what would your daughter, your son know about you?" And yes, she was talking a lot, but she did have a tendency not to stop sometimes once she'd well and truly started up with it. "And those other old men and women, now long dead who came before us, who learned it from their da, who learned it from their ma, and who's ma learned it from her da, and who's da learned it from his ma, and on and on, and how in heaven or hell can we expect to rely on any of it? Her entire _race_ hasn't been hardly heard a peep from since who knows when. The stories, they say there used to be as many gargoyles about as there were humans once—well, what happened to all of them, huh? Maybe _we_ did, John. Maybe our _family_ did and those just like them who saw a body, a people, who looked different from them, who struck some fear in them when they went to bed at night and maybe they thought: _Well, wouldn't the world just be better for me and mine if they weren't there in it any longer?_ Maybe that's just exactly all it ever was—_hate_—hate and old stories that are just as likely naught but lies. I've got no proof that's not so, John, and my _friend_ has given me a bundle of proof that it _is_." She finished... and _oh bloody hell_ did it ever feel good to finally get it all off her chest for once.

John kept looking at her a moment, then he turned away and lay his dead back in his seat, looking blankly at the ceiling. "...You don't though." He finally told her, patiently. "Have the proof I mean, not really." He said, sitting back forwards a little and looking at her again. "You know that, don't you?" He asked, hoping she could see this for what it... well, what it might not be. He realized of course, that she was asking him to do the same from the opposite direction. He wasn't sure how much he'd be able to just yet, but he was trying to... and he would keep his word to her. Jason wouldn't hear a word of this, unless it was from her. You didn't break your word with family—you just didn't.

She tilted her head a little, considering. He wasn't taking this hard at all, which was good. "Pretend I don't and spell it out for me, would you? So we both know about that of which we speak?" She asked. It was a trick she'd learned in business that she used every now and then. It could be useful for getting some clarity, and... as a stalling tactic.

He nodded, taking a sip of coffee and keeping the cup in his hand as he started to talk. She did likewise, the warm tea a comfort. "What you've said... It could all be true for all I know, I'm... not fool enough to deny that. And you'd be right to say you'd have more insight into the Demon's—the _woman's_—motives than I could. Again, I'd be a fool not to concede that. But you'd also have to concede that you might be too close to this, because there's another way to look at this. I'm not saying it's how I look at it, because I... Well, I'm not sure _how_ I look at it. I honestly think I might be going through the motions more than anything of late, hoping to find footing again at some point. But here's maybe how Jason would want me to tell it—how he might look at all the same things you are..." He looked to her.

She nodded, willing to hear him out. "Go on then, I'm listening." She told him, giving him a look that would tell him she really was.

"Right then." He took another sip of coffee and went on. "We've got two owners of multi-national corporations and their dueling it out. People are getting killed. Notice I said _getting_ killed, not _have been_ killed, because I'd not be at all shocked if more bystanders suffer for it before this, whatever this is, is over. And aye, sure enough maybe David Xanatos is the one to blame. Maybe Dominique Destine really is the woman you take her for, but maybe not. David Xanatos is a charming, friendly sort of man to meet, Jason's told me so, but he uses it, he doesn't do it for free. Now, your Dominique isn't precisely that I'd think, but she is a powerful woman, and power... well, it's an old bit of wisdom everyone knows that power, it has a tendency to _corrupt_ people, even if they've got the best of intentions. As to that she's your friend, well... everyone wants those, Robyn—likely even Demons, I'd imagine. They make us feel less alone. She acts a friend, but how far does it go? If she found out your name, your _real_ name, Robyn Canmore, can you say with certainty you'd survive the night?" He sighed. "I don't know. I just think there's a lot we don't know here and I won't sleep too well at night if we left this off before we found out." He turned to look at her. "Look at it this way: If we _do_ keep digging, if we do stay _in_ this, and this woman you're calling your friend really does turn out to be Dominique Destine, hero to one and all and blight to all the world's ills, and not this Demon that's haunted our family for so long, then we _might just_ be there to help her when she needs it. And if not, well, then we'll be there for that too."

Robyn considered that a long moment, looking down at her tea and lusting after the tiramisu in her to-go bag. She let out a breath. "Alright, fine. You've got a point." She finally admitted, turning to look at him pleadingly. "Now can we eat this food we've bought, please?"

He smiled warmly to her. "I thought you'd never ask."

They ended up chatting a little more over their food. John asked her a few pointed questions about if she'd noticed anything odd or that stood out at Nightstone or with Dominique of late—anything that could hint at this secret Jason thought the Demon might be worried was getting out. They shared a memory or two as well, and Robyn found herself being dropped back at the building where she lived a bit later, feeling better for the talk and the food, despite that her thoughts were still plenty stirred up. Still, it really was a weight off, to have told John her secrets as she had.

She decided she'd probably just skip trying to watch that portion of a movie she'd been contemplating before in favor of just going right to bed, or, well, maybe the couch since it was closer. She really did need sleep. A good long nap at least, if not a full eight hours as she might like...

* * *

( to be continued )

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	15. Waking To Find Her

**Brave... Part 15: Waking To Find Her**

* * *

When Dominique woke and she looked at the digital clock under the window, she saw it was almost ten in the morning. It surprised her that she'd slept so long... and, she considered, it was also a surprise how well rested she felt. When she tried to stretch out her body a little though, she quickly realized she was still quite sore in many places, so she only did a few more (gentler) stretches before she lay back down, relaxed on the bed, and considered her situation anew.

She found herself more than a little incredulous that the previous night had truly happened as she remembered it. It was far from the first night of startling upset she'd had in her life though, so even that feeling was familiar enough to her. She remembered Elisa Maza most vividly, and found her feelings towards the human woman troubling and hard to decipher. She felt somehow vulnerable though, laying here. Not physically vulnerable, but... It wasn't a comfortable feeling for her, that she'd put herself so much in another's control, or, if not precisely control, then at least under... under her protection. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her thoughts. What she was going to do next? That was the question.

She'd made plans last night, both to stay close to Detective Maza and find out more about her... and then there was obviously the matter of David Xanatos to contend with... Hopefully, Lockland's assassins would have completed their dire task successfully. She knew she couldn't count on that though. Truthfully, she couldn't be certain of much—implementing _farthing_ meant that she was leaving everything to Lockland's discretion. It had basically been telling him to kill David as quickly as possible—whatever it took, and using whatever resources he needed. It also meant that, because Lockland would be making things up as he went, it was unlikely Xanatos would get any advanced warning. Lockland was very capable in such matters, and she trusted him enough to let him have his lead on this... Until she had sure confirmation of David's death though, she needed to behave as though Lockland had failed. Calling him from Elisa's loft for an update wasn't an option either. Elisa's land line wasn't secure. There would be a record of the call made with the telephone company, and, with something like this, one simply did not leave any traces or connections one could possibly avoid.

Still, there was one call she _could_ safely place. One she very much needed to place.

She sat up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed by the nightstand, picking up the phone and calling home.

The phone rang only once before it was answered.

"Hello?" Una's familiar voice spoke, sounding cautious. She was still tired, in more ways than one, from her night last night. Leo had tried to charm and sympathize with her when they'd finally gotten some time to themselves again, but, along with their experience in the park that night, Obsidiana's continuing sorrow, and that Dominique hadn't checked in yet, she had not been in much of a receptive mood.

"It's me." Dominique replied.

"Thank goodness." Una let out a sigh of very welcome relief. "Where are you?" Griff and Obsidiana had ended up going out to check on her once Una had told them all of Dominique's plans last night, and they'd seen the police presence at the lawyer's building. They hadn't found any trace of her though... Obsidiana had been stormy, frustrated, and quietly furious by the time she'd come home, not saying a word to any of them until the sun had come up.

"Safe... I... Everyone made it home safely? Nothing's happened there?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes... We've all been tense, that's all." Una admitted.

"I'm sorry for that." Dominique admitted. "Listen, I'll be home soon. We can talk then." She replied, implying that she didn't want to say more over the phone.

"Right, well... See you soon then?" Una answered, having taken her hint. She was simply glad to have one less thing weighing on her thoughts—simply glad her dear friend was safe and on her way home to them.

"Soon." Dominique replied, hanging up the phone and exhaling, relieved to learn nothing was amiss with her clan. That David would have struck at her home as well had seemed unlikely, but it was a relief to know for sure that he hadn't. She looked up at the wall at a painting there of a desert sunrise (or sunset, she couldn't tell which) and then closed her eyes for a moment, finding herself thinking about Elisa again. She realized she would have to speak with her about this as well—about her plans, about David, and about other things. She needed to take the time to establish more of a relationship with her this morning, to find out where she stood with her in the light of day. She wouldn't give too much away at first, she decided, certainly no _hint_ of Lockland's activities, but... like it or not, Elisa Maza was a factor to be considered in her life now, and would almost certainly be for quite some time to come. Not that she found that prospect unappealing—no, she actually found the opposite to be true, in fact. She smiled warmly to herself... She was looking forward to seeing her again, actually.

She shook her head ruefully at such thoughts. "Still so foolish after all this time, it seems." She mused softly to herself. She felt how she felt though, and events had taken place last night as they'd taken place... and, in just that same way, Elisa would either continue to prove herself worthy of her trust, or she wouldn't... The practical side of her, the voice of experience, told her that Elisa would surely betray her in the end somehow. Still, her heart... Her heart told her otherwise. Her heart told her that... just maybe, it really might be different his time?

In any case, she considered, she should probably be getting dressed about now. Perhaps Elisa was up as well? It was late enough in the morning for that, but, then, she remembered Elisa telling her how long she'd been up yesterday, and she resolved not to wake her if she found her still sleeping.

She got to her feet then and went to retrieve her clothing from where she'd left it on the floor last night. She picked up the piece she wore as a gargoyle first, humming to herself in consideration, a thought occurring to her. For a gargoyle, it was the usual thing to wear little in the way of clothing. It was simply more comfortable, for one thing... She knew humans usually wore more... Though this would be close to appropriate at some formal functions, actually. Robyn had explained the reasons for the discrepancy: That human women worse less to those types of events as a form of courting. Their men didn't—as some misguided show of strength, she'd come to conclude. Human courtship practices between their genders was a truly disturbing thing to contemplate for her, actually... Some humans were more sensible of course, and a significant portion of them even courted within their own gender, as gargoyles usually did... Back at the office building yesterday, in the stairwell, she'd been surprised to notice Elisa's subtle reaction to her as a human in this attire, and... well, she found she was curious to see what her reaction to seeing her dressed that way again might be...?

So she set about getting dressed. She had to admit, aside from the slight feeling that it left her too vulnerable as a human, she still felt most... herself, wearing this. Even after all the time she'd had to get used to it, it was still a little disquieting to her to actually be a human and not a gargoyle. This helped with that some. The clothes weren't strictly traditional of course. They were a more modern equivalent that she'd had custom made to fit her needs, but they still had the feel of the type of clothing she'd worn for most of her life, the fabrics feeling the same against her skin.

Dressed, she went in search of Elisa. When she opened the door to the hallway though, she immediately noticed the scent of food, which made her realize how hungry she was. Before she could think about it really, she found herself headed towards where the pleasant aromas were coming from, her thoughts growing more conflicted again as she made her way to Elisa's kitchen.

Upon her arrival, Elisa looked up from her food preparation and smiled. "Hi." She greeted her.

Dominique noticed again the subtle way Elisa took in her appearance. She smiled a little to herself, satisfied that she'd been right ...In fact, she considered, a little surprised, she could remember only a few times in her life when she'd been looked at in just that way... It was an unquestionably pleasant feeling, and it spoke highly of Elisa's character as well. "Good morning, Elisa." She greeted her in return, walking over to join her in the kitchen, standing on the other side of the counter and meeting her host's gaze.

"Did you sleep well?" Elisa asked, a little caught in Dominique's eyes somehow. There was just... something there, like a question, or maybe more than one?

"...I did, thank you." Dominique replied. "Is... some of this for me?" She asked, referring to the food.

"It is. You're hungry, I hope?" She asked. "Otherwise, I'm going to be stuck with leftovers."

"As it turns out, I am." Dominique replied, glancing over to the table, which had been set for two. "Can I... help? In preparing the food?" She asked, not having really thought about it before asking the question.

"No, it's alright. I'm almost done anyway, and you're my guest." She explained.

"Alright... I'll just keep you company then." Dominique replied easily, coming around the counter and inspecting the food curiously. "You're vegan?" She asked, noticing the conspicuous absence of any meat or dairy.

"Yeah, I hope that's alright?" She asked.

"Fine." Dominique replied equanimously. It was becoming something of a trend lately, she guessed, in certain circles, though she'd never bothered to find out why. Food was food though, as far as she was concerned—as long as it was of good quality, and this smelled like very good food. She wondered away to the other side of the small kitchen then, thinking of how to ask her next question. "Can I ask... How are you dealing with... everything that you've learned, yesterday?" She asked, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen and looking at Elisa from behind.

Elisa put down what she was doing (putting things on plates to take over to the table) and turned around to regard her guest. "I suppose I do have questions..." She allowed.

"I'd be surprised if you didn't." Dominique replied, finding herself continually appraising Elisa with a keen sort of curiosity that she couldn't seem to help herself from indulging in.

Elisa noted the look and leaned back against the counter. "I guess... How are you planning on dealing with this? Xanatos, I mean. I'd like to help if I can, but you're right... People like that, like you I guess, with that much money and power, they're hard to prosecute. They always are. And with all of—well, the facts of who you are..." She shook her head. "If Xanatos knows too, am I right in thinking that he's got leverage over you because of it?" She asked.

Dominique considered that—considered Elisa too, and found her as impressive as she had last night. The way her mind seemed to work... and her eyes, so alive and expressive—they were eyes that didn't hide... She often wished she still had eyes like that, but she hadn't in a very long time... "I suppose he does, if you come right down to it." She allowed. "He's known for years though, and never tried to leverage me with the knowledge. Whether that's because of some honorable quality in his character, or simply because he knows me well enough to know that I wouldn't stand for it—wouldn't be cowed by it for a second—I can't say."

"But he wants something from you, doesn't he?" Elisa asked. "Bad enough to do what you think he did last night? Bad enough that he'll try again?" It was either that, or there was a grudge of some kind involved, and that didn't seem to be the vibe she was getting here.

"That's a certainty, yes. Allowing that I'm unable to prevent it getting that far, at any rate." Dominique replied, intentionally not quite answering Elisa's first question.

The omission didn't go unnoticed, but Elisa didn't press the point. Dominique wouldn't tell her the truth unless she wanted to anyway, that was easy to see, and, in any case, she didn't feel the need to push her on the subject. "How are you planning on preventing it then?" She asked instead.

"However I have to." Dominique replied simply, wondering to herself how Elisa, a police officer, would take what she'd just said...

Elisa regarded her thoughtfully a moment, sighing. "Well, I suppose I can't really begrudge you defending yourself... even if it might not be strictly within the bounds of the law." She didn't like it—didn't like it one bit, actually... but it was true anyway. If the law couldn't protect this woman, especially given the... nature of her situation, how could she reasonably expect her not to defend herself? How could she expect her not to fight as hard as she could to prevent herself being turned into a laboratory experiment? She couldn't, and it was as simple as that. Any more than she could hold paying protection money to Tony Dracon against the local shop owners who did that to avoid being beaten, killed, or having their shops burned down.

Dominique felt a mild but pleasant level of surprise at that. "What about your promise, then?" She asked softly.

"Lawyers and therapists, you mean?" Elisa asked with a little of a smile.

Dominique nodded.

Elisa shook her head. "I think I can make an exception if your life's at stake. If this guy wants to hold you prisoner somewhere and... and run experiments on you? If I had _that_ hanging over my head? I can't say I wouldn't break a few laws either, if it came down to that. I doubt _anyone_ could. Laws are there to protect people, Dominique... or at least they should be. I know full well that it doesn't always work that way..."

"And that's what you consider me to be? _People_?" Dominique asked, unable to keep a small, increasingly fond smile from her lips as she gazed into Elisa's eyes.

"I think you know by now that I do." Elisa answered, her heartrate rising a little at the way Dominique was looking at her now. Her eyes were just... wow. She'd never met anyone with eyes that effortlessly penetrating and complicated and... vast seeming.

Dominique regarded her thoughtfully. "I... suppose I really _should_ know that, shouldn't I?" She allowed softly. "It occurs to me in fact, that I should also offer you my thanks again... for what you did for me yesterday. All of it... You really were quite heroic." She offered her a smile.

Elisa smiled back. Was she being flirted with? She couldn't tell for sure. Dominique could apparently pull off enigmatic and genuine in tandem really well when she wanted to. "Um, well, you're welcome. I'm glad I was there." She only wished she had a better alternative to offer this woman than whatever Dominique's definition of _However I have to_ might entail. She wished the law really _did_ protect everyone equally, as it was supposed to. It was that same old helpless feeling she got dealing with Dracon sometimes. Everyone knew he was guilty—everyone knew he belonged in jail. Sometimes... More often than she'd care to admit really, she wished she could just put him there. The law was far from perfect though, this whole situation would be proof of that even if she'd had none until now... And maybe this whole thing wasn't the wisest thing for her to have gotten quite so mixed up with. She hadn't really had a choice at the start of course, it plainly having been the right thing to do to put a stop to what those mercenaries had been doing to Dominique, but... it also hadn't exactly been in her job description to take the assault victim home with her, had it? She'd just felt protective though, responsible. More than that, she had to admit to herself that she found the whole thing completely interesting and exciting, and... she always did have a soft spot for strays too, didn't she? Add it all up with the way Dominique took her breath away a little...

Dominique sighed. "You know, if we keep talking like this, the food you've made us is liable to go cold." She pointed out, walking the short distance to the place on the counter where the two plates of food were, scenting it lightly and stealing a bite for herself from one of the plates. She hummed a little at the pleasant taste. "It's very good." She did always enjoy good food—she'd gone too many nights without not to, she supposed.

"Thanks." Elisa told her, feeling just a little shy somehow... Maybe having something to do with her having watched Dominique's lips a little too avidly as she'd eaten that bite of food just now, she considered. It really wasn't at all fair, the way she was dressed and how beautiful she was... how compelling... Belatedly, she wondered just why it was that Dominique wasn't wearing the outfit from her pack that she'd worn last night, with the jeans and such? At first, she'd put it down to comfort and trust on her part, having just woken from bed safe and sound in a cop's house, but now she wasn't so sure... Was she being flirted with? She smiled a little to herself, thinking that she might be...

"I should be the one thanking you for preparing it for me." Dominique replied, catching Elisa's smile. Wondering if she was interpreting it correctly, she smiled softly to her in return, picking up the plate she'd stolen food from just before. "May I?" She asked.

"Please." Elisa replied easily, watching her guest take up her plate of food and start to walk towards the table. She couldn't help that a warm smile came over her own lips too, watching her. More than how beautiful she was though, she had to admit, there was just something—some sort of... spark... that was just _there_ for her. It was something she hadn't felt in... It had been almost a year and a half now, hadn't it? Since then, she'd gone out a few times—dated Rebecca Montagne for a few weeks, most notably—but her heart just hadn't been in it. Becca had been a good friend even before that, and they'd become even closer since, the fact that things had gone far enough between them that they'd become lovers for a time before Elisa had broken things off between them not having ended or eroded their friendship as Elisa had feared could happen at the time. If anything, their friendship had only grown stronger. The conversation they'd had last night still fresh on her mind, she wondered again if it had really been something between them that hadn't been there, or if... it had just been too soon for her after Margot's death to feel that way again about... anyone... She shook the thoughts from her head and followed after Dominique with her own plate of food. The drinks and things were already over on the table waiting for them, and they sat down their plates.

They sat down too and their eyes met across the table. Elisa smiled warmly to the other woman.

"You're staring a little, detective." Dominique spoke softly, a smile on her lips and a sort of bemused curiosity in her voice.

Elisa blinked. "Maybe I was." She admitted just as softly. "I'm sorry?" She offered.

"Don't be." Dominique replied. "The... way you do it, I don't think I'd ever object." She couldn't seem to help teasing her a little (it was plain to her from this that she'd perhaps been spending a little too much time with Robyn lately). "But... can I assume you have more questions for me?"

Elisa swallowed a little. _Yup, definitely being flirted with_, she considered, smiling a little to herself, pleased... despite that there might just be a few butterflies fluttering about in her stomach at the moment. "I do, in fact..." She admitted. "If you want to answer them, I mean... You don't have to." She offered, realizing suddenly she actually was very curious to know more about the woman across from her, as well as what the implications of her very existence might be.

Dominique considered that for a moment while she chewed a bite of food. She smiled again. "How about this: Ask me anything you want, and if I don't wish to answer, I'll simply say as much?" She offered, curious as to what Elisa's next question would be. A question asked could be as telling as a question answered, after all.

"Sounds fair... So, I guess: Where are you from?" She asked. "What part of the world?"

"...I'm from Scotland." Dominique answered. That certainly wasn't a question she'd expected. "Wyvern Hill... in present day Lochaber Ward." That had been all she'd thought to say, but, looking into Elisa's expectant eyes, she somehow couldn't bring herself not to go on. She sighed a little. "There used to be a great castle there, now abandoned and in ruins. Humans built it, but my kind—my clan—had lived there since long before... The humans struck an... accord with us... As we slept through the day, and they slept through the night, we would guard them at night, and they, in turn, were to guard us during the day... I was born there, in 938. The castle was sacked in 994, and I fled, thinking myself the last survivor of my clan..." She told her with all the honesty she felt she could afford to risk.

"You weren't though?" Elisa asked, privately astonished that Dominique had just told her she was 1,057 years old... Was she immortal somehow, or were her kind merely very long-lived? It would certainly explain that sense of vastness she'd seen in her eyes—that it might come from someone who'd lived through a large swath of history. By rights, Elisa knew she should at least question if it were true or not, but her cop's instincts told her she wasn't being lied to. Even the best cop wasn't a lie detector though, she knew. Still, she was sure she could trust this woman—sure she was one of the good ones. She'd ask more later she decided, for now she just wanted to hear the story.

"...As it turned out, no." Again, Elisa's perceptiveness had caught her off guard, but... not in a bad way. "My lover, my... husband—he had escaped as well. He found me, weeks later." She admitted. The bittersweet thoughts of Goliath evoking a familiar, if now distant, swirl of complex emotion in her.

Elisa smiled a little. "At least you weren't alone." She offered. "What happened to him?"

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	16. Theories On Magic

**Brave... Part 16: Theories On Magic**

* * *

Dominique smiled a little wistfully. "Long gone... There was a battle. He was slain while protecting me." She fought the familiar hateful twist of grief that came from thinking of that time. His death had not been at all... easy... on her. But, Goliath, by that time, had been old... had lived a full life. Worse... Much worse, was that they'd also had a son, who'd been young... though old enough to fight. Gruoch had named him _Conall_ at one point... She had lost him that same wretched day as well, to a spear thrown by a _human_. The grief and rage she'd felt at all humans over his loss—she wondered if she would ever truly be rid it... If it were even at all possible to work through, get over, move past a thing like that. Most days, she liked to think she'd made great progress in healing those old wounds... Here, today, talking with Elisa for example, she was particularly optimistic. Whenever she talked with Robyn, she felt optimistic too. Other days though, other times, sitting across a boardroom from the smug, nearly insufferable humans she so often had to deal with as the owner/CEO of Nightstone, or when she had to face off against drug dealers, armies of child soldiers, or human traffickers... then, she still found it hard, even impossible at times, not to hate them all down to the very last. She told herself at those times that not all humans were like that. That they weren't _like_ the other species that called this world home, that you could judge easily in aggregate, just my encountering one or a few of their kind. That they were partly alien to this world—creatures born of the fae, and that, just like the fae, they were changeable, often fickle, and widely varied as a species. Some of the fae, she often reminded herself, were worthy of her hate or distrust as well, but others... Fox and Wen, she'd come to treasure as beloved friends. She hoped she'd succeeded in making peace with that... If she had or not though, regardless, it was one subject she wasn't going to talk about with Elisa—not now, at least. If she told that story... there might be no hiding that old hatred in her eyes that the memory might bring up for her, and, somehow, the idea of Elisa Maza seeing that side of her was... not a pleasant thought.

"...I'm sorry." Elisa told her simply.

Dominique smiled just a little at that. "Thank you." There was much more to that part of her story of course, even than her son's death, but now was not the time to go into any more of it, she decided. "So, what else would you like to know?" She asked, taking another bite of food.

Elisa thought. "Well, um... I guess, I'm not sure really." She sighed. "I guess I'm still a little punchy from everything last night. Yesterday was a kind of a marathon for me, you know?" She admitted, taking another appreciative sip of black tea to hide her slight embarrassment. She'd woken early too, not having gotten all the sleep she might have wished for. It was an unhealthy pattern she'd fallen into too often lately, since Margot's death really... she knew that, but... she hadn't really had much luck shaking it, had she?

Dominique smiled. It was easy to smile with this woman around, she was finding. "No, I don't actually. You were working late, I take it? Care to tell me about it?" She asked, hoping to make more headway in her plans to get to know Elisa better. In the light of day, in Elisa's presence, her paranoid suspicions of last night seemed flimsy at best, and very improbable. Still, she reminded herself, she had to think of these things. She _had_ to be paranoid, because she didn't have very good instincts were humans were concerned, and she never had... The more solid information she had about Elisa, the more she could reassure herself. When she got home, she'd have Elisa thoroughly investigated by her security people and a few private contractors she employed on occasion as well, and that would give her even more assurances.

"Oh, I was working late alright." Elisa admitted. "My shift usually starts at nine in the morning, but I came in early to catch up on some paperwork." She explained, smiling a little. "I've been busy lately, and I sort of let it pile up." She admitted with a just a hint of shy embarrassment evident. By her apartment, Dominique could tell Elisa liked to keep things, if not overly neat, then... in order. It showed she had a certain need for control, a certain sense of strong personal responsibility, which Dominique could certainly sympathize with. "My captain wasn't too thrilled about that, but she understands."

"So, you were inside doing paper work all day?" She asked gently, gazing into Elisa's eyes with interest.

Elisa smiled, surprised by just how much she was enjoying this flirtation going on between them... Dominique Destine was apparently very much her type. "Um, no. I've got more sense than that, thank you. If I'd stared at paperwork that long, I think I'd have been getting a ride to the nuthouse, in a nice padded truck."

"What then?" Dominique asked, frankly enjoying herself quite a lot by this point. She wasn't usually the type of person to open up to others this way. There were very few, in fact, with whom she'd been able to enjoy talking with this much, or so freely... She'd been getting better at it in recent years, surely. She'd had good teachers, she admitted. First Fox, then Mendela and Vercinix, who had been such a balm to her to have back in her life... Wen... then Una... and Griff had a way of making her smile, making everyone smile, really... Obsidiana, or so it had... been for a time (all a mess now, and all her own fault)... and Robyn, of course...

"What is actually a who—a lowlife by the name of Tony Dracon." Elisa explained.

"I've heard of him." Dominique replied. In fact, she had reliable reports that David had a fairly unsavory history of occasional dealings with him through a third party. An incentive she could offer Elisa at a later date if this charming protector of hers ever wavered in taking her side in all of this? Maybe so... though she immediately felt guilty for thinking it. She'd been spending much too much time in those boardrooms of hers, she decided. "You were... hunting him, I take it?" She asked.

"You could say that, I guess." Elisa closed her eyes a moment, then opened them. "I... With a job like mine, you hear a lot of stories, you know? ...My dad never came home. My sister says she falls down a lot, but I don't believe her. There was a fire, my whole life up in smoke—I guess I must just have been careless. My daughter, she hung out with the wrong crowd, got messed up with drugs, now she's pregnant and she doesn't know who the father is, but the boy who gave her drugs won't leave her alone. My husband never came home, someone shot him for his wallet. Why can't the police do anything? Why can't you... It's my job—it's the police's job—to protect our community. Protect the people who can't protect themselves. Well, a lot of those stories I keep hearing? One of the names that keeps coming up when I look into them?"

"Tony Dracon..." Dominique supplied softly, struck deeply and meaningfully by Elisa's heartfelt words.

"Tony Dracon. So, I guess I just decided to make him my personal project. When I have the time." She looked down at her plate, feeling that same sense of grim, outraged determination she always felt when she thought about her _hunt_ for Tony Dracon. "Today, around eleven, I got called in on a murder. A widowed father whose son is now without _both_ his parents." She met Dominique's open gaze again, and found it somehow comforting. "No proof. There probably won't ever _be_ any proof, but I'm... Let's just say, I wouldn't be at all surprised if Dracon had it done. Even if he didn't, the victim worked for him laundering money, so, well, it's connected... So, I did what I'm supposed to. I was a cop: I talked to witnesses, followed leads..."

"Find anything?" Dominique asked, her food forgotten. She'd let herself get so wrapped up in Elisa's words, in her voice. Her voice rang so very true...

Elisa smiled softly. "No, I'm afraid not." She reported, letting out a breath and taking another sip of tea. "But, today's another day, you know?"

"I do know." Dominique replied, smiling a little and taking a bite of food. She couldn't help it, it seemed: The more time she spent with this woman, the more she liked and respected her. The more thoroughly she came to... trust in her. "You... The way you talk... you sound like a gargoyle, Elisa."

"A gargoyle?" Elisa asked, confused. "Like the statues?"

Dominique regarded her thoughtfully a moment. Somehow she'd assumed she'd have said the name to her last night, but she realized she never had and Elisa had never asked what her kind were called. She'd never asked a lot of questions that she would think most humans _would_ ask, come to think of it. But it was strange, because somehow Dominique felt like they'd known each other longer than they truly had. Perhaps something in the way they'd met and how danger sharpened time? Some moments, some days in life changed you more and burned brighter and move vividly in memory than all the rest. She knew that truth better than most. "It's the name humans gave to my kind long ago. Gargoyles. The statues you speak of, I imagine we are where they take their inspiration." She smiled a little to her host.

"Hmm." Elisa found herself considering that.

Dominique smiled. "I see the questions are back. Ask me? Whatever you want, Elisa." She offered softly, hoping she wouldn't have to lie when she answered.

Elisa met her eyes again and smiled, taking her up on her offer. "Okay... Um, Gargoyles: Are you, um, are you magic? As a species, I mean? Like fairies or dragons, or do you as an individual just _use_ magic... like a wizard or a sorceress, I guess, and the magic not have anything to do with it?" She asked.

Dominique found herself giggling a little at the question. "Um, the second option, I'd say." She offered.

Elisa chuckled just a little too, falling maybe a bit in love with the sound of Dominique's laugh. "Alright, so I'm having breakfast with a sorceress then?"

"If you like..." Dominique allowed. "Yes."

Elisa shook her head a bit in wonder. "Lucky me." She smiled. "So then... the magic: How does it work exactly?" She asked.

"Good question." Dominique smiled to herself just a little, fascinated by how expressive Elisa's eyes were—how open and unguileful... "I have to admit, I don't really know the answer... I don't know if even Oberon's children know for certain." She confessed. "But I can tell you what I _do_ know, if you'd like?" She offered.

"I'd like to know." Elisa accepted the condition. "And what does the faerie king from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_ have to do with it, by the way?" She asked further, taking a bite from her plate absently.

"Oh, Oberon is very real, Elisa." Dominique smiled, feeling just a bit of mischief take hold of her. "Would you believe me if I told you that his ex-wife has been an acquaintance of mine for several years?" She asked, with a hint of teasing in her voice. Internally, a part of her was telling her to stop enjoying herself quite so much in this little game she was letting herself play with the fascinating police detective across from her... but another part of her asked _Where's the harm?_ After hearing her talk about herself, about her beliefs and goals, hearing the unguarded emotion and the sure depth of integrity in her words... If she hadn't been sure of her before, she was now. Besides, she was finding that she... just liked _talking_ with her, so much. Elisa, being with her, talking with her... it almost made her feel as though she'd... somehow found herself on an island outside of time, where she didn't have to be the woman she'd let herself become, with all the responsibilities and burdens that weighed her down day by day. Instead, it almost felt like she could just... be someone else, someone she _wanted_ to be.

Elisa closed her eyes, shook her head, and smiled a little. "Now you're just having fun with me." She accused, gazing into her guest's eyes again.

Dominique shook her head in return. "Afraid not." She told her simply, smiling. Of course there was quite a story to be told about how exactly she and Titania had become acquainted in the first place. All the way up to the present day in which she found herself... well, in a position she very dearly wished she wasn't... She tried not to dwell on it though... a task which, admittedly, Elisa Maza seemed to be helping her with greatly at the moment.

"Okay then." Elisa had seen that look pass over Dominique's eyes just now. Some kind of... sorrow? "Maybe you'll introduce me someday?" Elisa replied a little uneasily, taking a sip of water. Given the fact that she'd seen magic, that she was sitting across the table from a gargoyle sorceress billionaire CEO, she supposed that this was probably real too. Titania and Oberon. She... might have been happier about that news though, if Dominique didn't seem so disquieted by them—by Titania, in particular, if she had to guess. She decided she wouldn't ask about it now, in any case. It didn't seem the time. Later. "But, so... you were going to tell me about magic?" She asked. "Or, your theories about it anyway?"

"I was, wasn't I?" Dominique observed, amused and chiding herself for having gotten slightly lost in Elisa's eyes and her warm smile again. "My first exposure to it came from the humans at Wyvern." She began to explain. "There were two sorcerers there over the years. The elder, I convinced to teach me some of what he knew. I'd thought: If the humans could do this, my clan were vulnerable to them if one of us could not." She admitted, avoiding telling Elisa about the childish ideals she'd had of driving the humans away from Wyvern with the power she would gain, as it would lead Elisa to ask questions Dominique didn't particularly want to answer. The massacre at Wyvern had not been her fault, she knew that—not directly, at least. It had been her former teacher, the Archmage Idris, who's spirit had possessed one of her clan brothers who'd been their downfall... but she had allowed herself to be used, hadn't she? More than once. And, because of her own desire for power, she'd allowed his wickedness to grow from the beginning when she could have stopped it so many times... She thought of David then and the position she found herself in now. It was one that could have so easily been avoided if she'd simply done as some among her clan had advised and had the scheming human killed at the beginning. She hadn't though, and hadn't it been (at least in large part) because of her own desire for redemption that she hadn't? A different desire, but the same old mistake. Both times, she'd been too focused on her own desires, hadn't she? And _far_ too naïve... She wondered if she really had learned her lesson in that regard at all, or if she was simply cursed to repeat past mistakes over and over again?

"Makes sense." Elisa commented, her attention wrapped.

"My teacher then," Dominique continued, resolutely banishing the maudlin thoughts that had begun to surface in her "He told me that magic was like.. sunlight dancing on a lake, making sparks, or what _look_ to us like sparks. Water is the only thing in the world that can do that... until a human makes a mirror. Or, I suppose, a more modern analogy would be lightning and electricity, wouldn't it?" She offered.

"So... it's a force of nature, then?" Elisa asked.

"Only a less obvious one, yes. That was his explanation—that one need only find the means to harness or direct it to make it yours." Dominique confirmed. "The fae, Oberon's children, on the other hand, seem to think it's... what makes us alive... Where the soul comes from. What makes _everything_."

"What do _you_ think?" Elisa asked.

"...I think that it _is_ like life in one way, at least: That it's a mystery which laughs at anyone foolish enough to imagine they know the secrets it keeps." She sat back and closed her eyes a moment. Really, she doubted if even Oberon or Titania themselves could do more than guess on the subject, if compelled to real honesty in the matter. Not that she'd ever met Oberon for herself of course, nor did she ever wish to.

"Is that the same principle as not having names for things?" Elisa asked.

Dominique opened her eyes. "...I suppose it is at that." She agreed, pleasantly surprised. "That you seem to see things in a similar way, it's surprising... You're surprising."

"Because I remind you of a gargoyle?" Elisa recalled.

"You see things truly, Elisa, and you don't try to convince others you know more than you actually do. Most gargoyles usually can do likewise, where... in my experience at least, most humans usually can't." Dominique confessed. "It's a difference in perspective—a critical one. When you came in that door yesterday, you saw _me_. You saw another living being in need of help. You see the human community around you, and you see victims, and you see those who victimize, but you are neither of those things, and so you can do what others of your kind can't, because you don't expect the world or the beings around you to be any other way than they are. The humans _have_ to deceive themselves that way, they have to fool themselves into not seeing what you see, in order to play the parts that they do. They have to see it that way in order to... to tear everything apart around them in the way they do, or to stand by and do nothing while it's done in their name, and not be crushed by the guilt of it..." She stopped speaking, wondering if she'd said too much. Wondering too if, thinking back to her actions (or rather, her inactions) with both David and Idris, if she were really so much better than humans in this way, or if she simply made different sorts of mistakes about this than they did?

Elisa sighed, a little shocked by that. But she also had to admit, Dominique had a point. She could sense the bitterness in her words too, and, like it or not, she had a lot of empathy for those feelings too. How many times after all... How many times had she watched as people did horrible things and asked herself just... _how_? How could they? How could they do that and _live_ with themselves? "...I wish I could say you were entirely wrong, or... even mostly wrong, but... Even still, I just... I hope you aren't as hopeless about us, about humanity, as that makes it sound. I mean, okay, yes... the people—humans—who victimize others, they have to be stopped. That's my job to stop them. But the rest? Surely you can't... I mean, just because those people don't put on a badge, don't... It doesn't make them guilty by inaction. It just... It doesn't make them bad people. It doesn't mean they're doing something _wrong_." She insisted.

"No... You're right, I suppose it doesn't... but it doesn't make them _right_ either." Dominique answered with quiet, resigned certainty. She made her own share of mistakes, yes, but, well... at least she was trying to be better, to see more clearly. All too many humans didn't even do that, did they?

"...Maybe not." Elisa allowed. "But I don't think it's always that simple."

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	17. What's True

**Brave... Part 17: What's True**

* * *

"It is for you." Dominique smiled warmly. "I saw that it is, and I hear it in your voice, see it in your eyes, even now... You took my side, Elisa. Confronted with a scene like the one you came into last night? Most of your kind would see only reasons not to do what you did—they'd _name_, they'd tell themselves a_ story_. They'd see other humans fighting a... a monster, or a Demon, and side with their own kind, either that or flee. You didn't though. You... You saw _me_. You saw me and you saw someone who needed you, and you risked your life for that. You fought for me. Simple. True. _Right_. No names, no stories, no lies. I wonder, did you even hesitate?" She asked. She was flattering her host a little strongly, perhaps, but it _was_ true... or, Dominique found herself having faith that it was at any rate—that faith, in turn, giving her more hope in the state of the world than she'd had before. Sometimes, after all, it can be very much a relief to have your views on the world proven less true than you'd thought. And if Elisa really was the conclusive proof that not all humans were untrustworthy after all? She'd come to think, or maybe hope, that Robyn might prove that to her one day, but their burgeoning friendship had never yet been put to any real tests, had it? Where Elisa's character and bravery _had_...

Elisa flushed a little. "I didn't, no..." She admitted.

"And why didn't you?" Dominique prompted softly, curious how Elisa might chose to answer.

Elisa sighed. "...You know why. It's my job, it's who I am, who I was raised to be, however you want to say it... and besides, _your kind_, my _kind_, what's _kind_ really mean, anyway? It's mostly subjective. I could just as easily say you're my kind and they weren't because we're women and they're men. Or say that you were more my kind than there's because they were breaking the law and we weren't... or, you might have been, actually. You never did tell me exactly why you were there last night, did you? I think you just said it was a personal matter?" She asked.

Dominique smiled softly. "I _was_ wondering if you were ever going to question me further on that." She admitted. "...Are you always so trusting, or did you simply judge my character so favorably?" She asked, wondering how much she would truly deserve it if Elisa told her that she had. Not so much that she would probably ever want to tell her savior all the many reasons why her good character might be reasonably brought into doubt, at any rate...

"...I suppose I did." Elisa admitted softly. "I still do." She told her, because it was true. She fully realized: It might have been a good idea to at least ask her a few more questions than she had last night before inviting her home with her. More to blame on lack of sleep and an adrenaline high, she supposed. Still, her experience with Dominique last night hadn't been the only thing she'd had to work from, had it? "Besides, any doubts I could have drudged up would have pretty much fizzled out entirely when I saw who you are after you changed."

"Who I am?" Dominique asked, confused.

Elisa nodded. "It was the first time we met, but not the first I've heard of you. I recognized you, remember? I actually saw an interview you did on Sixty Minutes a few weeks ago, in fact, and I've read a few magazine articles about you too. They were impressive. _You_ were impressive. All those people you help? More than I ever will probably. So... of course I trusted you after that. Call it one irrepressible, overly optimistic do-gooder's courtesy to another if you want?"

Dominique smiled, her face actually heating a little at the praise and recognition there. "See?" She said. "I suppose... even then, you saw me..." She said it softly. Robyn had encouraged her to do the interview, do a string of them actually, but after, she'd reported that they hadn't left quite the positive impression her assistant had hoped. Apparently, the average human didn't find her very... likable. And magazine articles? She... hadn't even known any had been written about her. Elisa had though.

"I think, yeah... I think maybe I really do." Elisa replied meaningfully.

"What do you see?" Dominique asked. "What did you see when you watched me give that interview?"

"Someone who had courage, honor... Someone who speaks and acts from her heart. Someone who fights for people who can't fight for themselves... Who does good in the world." Elisa told her with simple admiration. "Someone who makes me believe that the world can be a better place someday."

"You... really do think that of me, don't you?" Dominique asked, feeling deeply touched by Elisa's genuinely high opinion of her. "That I... have that kind of honor in me?" She remembered the last interview she'd done, the one after the one Elisa had seen—how miserable it had made her. Not all of them had been so bad of course. Still, she'd only been doing them because Robyn had convinced her of the value of it—convinced her that it would be good for the company... Which, in turn, she knew, would be good for her clan, for her kind, for her goals. She'd done the mental calculus, and seen the need for it. She'd been pressed, fawned over, doubted, exhausted, and ignored, but she'd never once let herself believe that she'd been... really listened to. Not in a way that would have left an impression like the one Elisa had seemed to have taken. She knew though, that if Elisa knew even half the things she'd done to achieve the position of power she had in the world today, she wouldn't be nearly so eager to trust. It made her wonder... had she somehow become the very thing she'd hated for all those years? Was she using and betraying this woman, just like a human would? Lying to her face, keeping secrets that could harm her, without even a care?

Elisa nodded _yes_ without hesitation. "I do."

Dominique smiled, trying not to let on how disturbed she was. "So, you'd let me keep my secrets then? Not tell you why I was there at all?" _I'm not who you think I am_, she wanted to say... but she _couldn't_—she just couldn't.

Elisa sighed. "I'd like to know, if you'd be willing to tell me, but no... I won't insist."

Dominique smiled, telling herself that everything would be alright—that it was necessary, and that she _would_ keep faith with this woman somehow... whatever she had to do. "If I do, we might be venturing just slightly back towards _lawyers and therapists_ territory." She allowed. "And this time... it wouldn't be because my life is in danger."

Elisa shook her head just a bit. "Why am I not surprised?" She smiled. "Look, why don't we just forget that, okay? Given the realities of your life, dealing with a guy like Xanatos who'd do the kind of thing I saw last night, who thinks he's above the law and might actually be in a lot of ways, I- I mean, I get it that it's got to be hard sometimes, and I think I can safely assume that you probably aren't out to hurt innocent people or anything. I trust you." Because it was true—she did trust her. Even more than the documented facts of her, there was just something undeniably, genuinely... good about this woman. She'd been hurt, Elisa could tell that easily, but she hadn't let that beat her. That... was very much something Elisa felt she could relate to.

Dominique smiled. "...Thank you. I, it... Your trust means a great deal to me." She admitted, feeling warmed by the trust Elisa was showing her, Elisa's good opinion of her mattering to her more than it probably should. She felt guilty too, of course, that Elisa's high opinion might not be as justified as Dominique might have wished.

"So what was it then?" She asked, willing to have faith. Dominique Destine was one of the kinds of people that gave her faith in the world—that gave her faith that there were people out there trying their _best_ to make the world better. She often made it a point to collect stories like that, like hers, especially when she was feeling discouraged, to make her feel less alone out there at night.

"It was... something very personal to me." She admitted, deciding that Elisa deserved as much of the truth as she could offer her. "Something from my past that remains unresolved... When Castle Wyvern was sacked by the Vikings in 994, several members of my clan were lost to us. A group of our young in particular, along with one of our elders and my dog, Aslan, whom I've told you about, were cursed by the human's mage—the younger of the two, whom I've mentioned before. He was haughty, and quick to anger, quick to think the worst of us. They were turned to stone before my husband's very eyes, the counter-spell to the curse having been burned by the Vikings. Sometime in the years since, they were stolen from me and sold to humans who collect rare antiquities. Over the years, I've maintained an enduring determination to find them—find a way to revive them. Aslan was the first I found after the theft, and thanks to a bargain I struck with Titania, he was freed. I've partially succeeded in finding the others, but there are still two I've yet to locate. The information the lawyers in that office had, you might well have guessed, pertained to an estate they represented. I did try to gain access to the information legally, of course, but they remained obstinate and I couldn't give them a convincing reason to relent... At least, not without telling them the truth of my nature and the story of my past, which I could not do. So I chose to get the information I needed another way... Had Xanatos's mercenaries not been lying in wait, I would have been in and out of there with no one the wiser, and no one harmed for it. I promise you that..."

Elisa smiled softly to her, hearing the open sincerity in her words. "...I believe you." She said, wanting to say more but a little at a loss. She felt the depths of Dominique's emotion, her need to be believed, for Elisa to believe her, to- she didn't know what, but she felt it and it was a lot. Maybe she wanted to be forgiven, Elisa thought, for having failed to save those young gargoyles in the first place? In her place, Elisa knew, she might well feel that way...

"...I'm glad." Dominique replied softly, realizing that her heart was beating a bit faster than it should be. She felt warm all through, and it was a little startling, actually... because, in that moment, she realized just how much she was... attracted to the woman sitting across from her. She wasn't sure she'd reacted this strongly to anyone this quickly since... maybe that time in the mountains, all those years ago, when she'd been such a fool... The attraction was mutual between them though, that was obvious to her. She smiled a little to herself. It would have been obvious by the very welcome way Elisa had looked upon her this morning, and by the fact that Dominique had welcomed that look so much, if nothing by else. But, this wasn't... They were having a perfectly pleasant conversation, and things were going so well—there was no reason for that to stop, was there? She looked back up to meet Elisa's eyes, a certain glimmer of excitement running through her body unasked for as she did. "So, detective, do you have any more questions for me?" She asked, actually feeling a little playful as she spoke.

"Oh, um, sure..." Elisa temporized, her mind having skipped tracks a little. What to ask? She had the momentary impulse to ask if Dominique were... seeing anyone, but she felt awkward with the impulse and squelched it, asking instead: "What's um... What's your favorite kind of music?" She asked a little helplessly, honestly having come up blank on anything better to ask. Dominique was turning out to be a very... _distracting_ sort of house guest.

Dominique looked at her a moment then laughter bubbled up from inside her, light and happy, banishing the subtle tension that had invaded their conversation before.

Elisa laughed a little too, feeling a bit self-conscious. "Sorry." She told her, the unguarded joy in Dominique's laughter making her heart beat faster and her skin heat slightly.

"Don't apologize, I've been told I need to develop more of a sense of humor anyway." She admitted, taking a sip of tea, recalling that Robyn had indeed told her that more than once. "You um... Do you actually want to know what kind of music I like though?" She asked, feeling, unaccountably, just a little shy.

"Sure." Elisa agreed, thinking she might as well stick with it. "Is that so hard to believe?" She asked with a little of a smile. She still couldn't think of anything else, which was kind of ridiculous—she could have sworn she'd had a thousand questions all lined up at one point. If she had though, they'd all escaped her. And anyway, she really didn't want to be... interrogating this woman or anything. Belatedly, it did occur to her that she could have asked something about history in general though—she _was_ sitting across the table from someone who'd apparently lived through the last millennium of it all in person, after all. She just knew she wanted Dominique to like her, think she was interesting and fun, not just a cop with emotional baggage and not much of a personal life who took her work home with her... which, truthfully, was probably who she'd let herself become lately.

"No... It's only, I mean that, no. I've... always liked flute music, or, that's played with a fiddle... or a violin." Dominique admitted. "Old songs... happy ones. My son..." She started to say, but then stopped herself, badly shaken that she'd said that out loud. She'd... She didn't... It was so unlike her to have...

"...You have a son?" Elisa asked softly.

"...Had. I... I had a son. He liked music... He could play..." She found herself unexpectedly shedding tears. She wiped them away and got up from the table, knocking her chair over accidentally as she did. She looked at it a moment in surprise, but then turned and walked away, needing space. She went into the kitchen, bracing her hands on the counter. On the inside she was seething, furious with herself, furious with the world, but mostly just furious at nothing, because really, deep down, she knew, just by having lived with this for as long as she had... that there was nothing really that her anger and sorrow over this could affect—nothing at all. That's what made it as hard to live with as it was... It was in this state that she felt a soft hand on her shoulder.

"It... It'll be okay." Elisa's soft voice offered her comfort and solace.

Dominique found herself turning to meet Elisa Maza's eyes then. "...Will it really, do you think?" She found herself asking, tears still escaping down her cheeks.

Elisa reached a hand up and, with tender care, wiped the tears away. "No, I guess not..." She admitted. "Not really. But..." But she didn't have a chance to finish what she'd been about to say, whatever that was, because Dominique moved forward, taking her in her arms and kissing her... Softly at first. Elisa didn't resist—didn't have it in her to resist... _Talk about magic_, she found herself thinking as she wrapped her arms around Dominique in return and let her body mold to hers. The warmth and the sheer rightness she felt in the woman's arms was a revelation.

Dominique hardly realized what she was doing, but, soon enough, she had Elisa backed up against a nearby counter, kissing her, touching her with a deep, slow, sensual passion. She felt like Elisa's lips were air, and her skin the sun—_needed_... filling her with warmth, passion... even peace...

Elisa felt herself pressed against the counter, not roughly, but she felt almost overwhelmed anyway by the low, riveting intensity she sensed rolling off this woman in waves. She'd felt this building between them as they'd talked, she realized... Dominique had such... such a presence about her... fierce, kind, indomitable... but searching too... maybe a little like she herself had been lately? It wasn't just searching though, it was need, and it was... powerful... _intoxicatingly_ so... She felt, and found something inside her answering back—gladly, and without hesitation... She moved, pushing back, rocking into her, challenging her for control a little, her heart racing and her blood heating beneath her skin. She was already wet, she realized with a soft moan, and her body was telling her just exactly where she wanted this to go... right down the hall towards her bedroom, and preferably very soon...

Dominique felt herself grow light-headed, giving way more and more to Elisa's reciprocating advances. Slowly, she came to realize just what she was doing and why she should feel self-conscious about doing it, and, slowly, she retreated.

Elisa sensed the withdrawal and reluctantly accepted it, their lips parting. Gazing into Dominique's troubled eyes, she felt her mind clear at what she saw there...

"I'm sorry, that was... probably inappropriate, wasn't it?" Dominique asked, scrambling to reconcile her own actions. This was just... too much, and too fast. They'd only met yesterday—met _well_, yes, but... And Elisa was human, she reminded herself. She trusted her, yes, actually _did_ trust her, but... oh, this could be so much trouble for her, couldn't it? David's threat, her clan... everything else...? She had... She had _responsibilities_. She had _secrets_ too, and a past, and not all of it could she fool herself into thinking that this woman could so easily forgive her for. What's more, they were different spices, at least... part of the time, and that had its own set of difficulties, didn't it? They didn't seem to matter to Elisa now, but would they later on? Would they matter to her? She didn't... like to think they would, but... She wasn't on an island outside of time, she wasn't the woman she wanted to be—and more, Elisa had returned her advances, yes, but... but she'd been... She'd been grieving, and Elisa had been... right there, and so beautiful, saying all those perfect things, trusting and believing in her when she really had no business doing so... She just... She had the sudden feeling that she might have just made a fool of herself...

"Maybe not, but... I felt it too, alight?" Elisa asked, touching Dominique's cheek in a caress, running a hand through a few strands of her hair. She was nervous doing it, because as much as Dominique apparently wasn't sure she was ready for what had just happened between them, Elisa knew she wasn't exactly baggage free in that area either. But, just- maybe it was time, you know? "I mean... You had to be able to tell, right?" She asked with a little of a playful smile.

Dominique couldn't help but return the smile, feeling a small sense of triumph, maybe even a very small bit smug, never mind that she felt a little ridiculous in feeling that way. "I could, only... are you sure?" She asked, moving forward a little so their lips were that much closer together again. Her heart was beating fast now, and she felt the desire from before returning swiftly, as though it had never left her.

"Yeah..." Elisa told her simply, caught in Dominique's vividly open regard. "I'm sure." She was taking a chance here, she knew she was, but she also knew she just... really wanted to take this kind of chance again right now. So, she closed the scant distance between them, kissing Dominique back the way she'd just been kissed moments before. She felt Dominique melt into the kiss. She could feel Dominique's desire for her too, feel her need... And Elisa realized that a part of her she'd been denying for far too long... very much needed this too...

* * *

( to be continued )

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	18. How Best To Take A Risk

**Brave... Part 18: How Best To Take A Risk**

* * *

The kiss was sweet and tender, yet still a little wild in a way that spoke of real passion. Dominique held Elisa to her, Elisa's hands around her shoulders. Their bodies came together again and Dominique found herself deepening the kiss—wanting more, almost demanding it. Elisa pressed back again and Dominique found herself turned about and backed up against the refrigerator door before she really recognized what was happening, so swept up in this woman had she become. Not that she minded—very much the exact _opposite_, actually. Elisa was pressing into her, moving against her—Dominique felt wetness and tension between her thighs, in her depths, and she yearned for Elisa's touch. She moaned in need as she kissed and grasped at Elisa almost mindlessly. Her head felt like drums were pounding in her ears, though she couldn't hear them, just feel them. Everything felt warm inside, like she was burning, but there was no pain, only pleasure, only _need_. She couldn't think anything more than she didn't want this to stop—she wanted more, _needed_... needed more...

So, when Elisa finally broke the kiss again, staring into her eyes with searching, intent desire, Dominique found herself moaning under her breath at the loss and staring back hungrily into Elisa's eyes, having to exert great effort not to go to her again, kiss her again, plunder her mouth, and demand that she touch her again, _take_ her again. She... she wanted to drag this woman to the nearest likely place, she realized—the sofa would do, she considered—wanted to tear her clothes from her and be with her... wanted to _know_ her... _be_ known... It was impetuous and reckless, but it was what she felt... and, realizing that, she found she was very at peace with the idea.

Elisa, for her part, was fairly mesmerized by the look in Dominique's eyes. Intense, wild, and wanting—but so open and vulnerable too... She could see the need there, and it mirrored her own, but then she saw the peace overtake her too, and it about did her in it struck at her heart so... Was she seeing things? It was... so much, so fast... Her heart was beating flutter-swift in her chest, and it made her afraid... but it also made her unafraid too. That look called to her, made her feel... things she'd once promised not to feel for any other woman... but the woman she'd made that promise to wasn't alive anymore, and the promise she'd made hadn't been meant as a prison. She had to stop... Stop running from it, she told herself. She had to try. Her friends, the therapist the department had assigned her, her family, they all wanted that for her... Margot would want that too...

Dominique's hand wondered up her waist and Elisa shivered a little. Dominique moved forward and kissed her gently a long moment. She broke the kiss soon after though, needing to say this, needing the sure declaration. "We both _want_ this..." She told her with gentle, sure insistency, touching Elisa's hair. This feeling she felt, it was a sacred thing... a beautiful thing... She felt fear—that she was giving too much of herself away too quickly, that she was being a fool again somehow, that, in her _long_ history of making a mess of things at love, she could well be making yet another mistake... But what did it really matter, anyway? Worrying about that sort of thing had never stopped her before, and Elisa had _proven_ herself to her. Her heart wanted who it wanted—her heart wanted the woman in her arms, even knowing what she was feeling might not last—that this, the choice she was making, might well end in tragedy or heartbreak somehow... When life offered you even_ fleeting_ joy or peace though, something she'd learned at great cost over the years was that only fools failed to take it.

"...We do?" Elisa asked softly, a little breathless, suddenly a little insecure about what she was doing.

Dominique felt some looming insecurity of her own at her back, which she resisted indulging as she answered. "Deny me if you think I'm wrong, Elisa... Deny yourself if you think you must..." She told her, offered her, pushing off the refrigerator to move in closer. "I don't believe you will though... I... I think you will have me in your bed soon..." She told her, her voice becoming soft and seductive. "Under me... over me... inside me... belonging to me..." She whispered the last words progressively more softly and was very pleased as to hear Elisa moan and feel her shiver with desire at them. "Say it?" She asked. "Say..."

Elisa kissed her, slow and deep, helpless not to, feeling so turned on she could hardly think anymore. "We _both_ want this..." Elisa told her in a soft, intimate, all at once almost desperately sure sort of voice when she parted the kiss. She backed off then, taking Dominique's hands in hers and pulling her along towards the hallway.

Dominique smiled a satisfied smile and followed along, towards Elisa's bed, feeling pleased with herself.

As she entered the room, Dominique's breath caught. Elisa's bed was bathed in sunlight falling in through a window above on a wall slanted over it, the room all in shadow around it, the blinds drawn up so she could see the open sky. She turned her attention to Elisa who was in the process of taking her clothes off for her. Their eyes met and Dominique's heartrate spiked. This all felt so perfect somehow—strange in a way, yes, like she'd become that someone new again, with that new and different life that she'd daydreamed about before. She found herself musing about what that life would be like, even as she undid the clasps on her own clothing. She imagined what it would be like if she were simply... Elisa Maza's wife. If the world were a different world, if things were just... simple again?

Stepping from her clothing, she walked to Elisa, now bared to her as well. She was so very exquisitely beautiful... Dominique touched her and shivered at the warmth and heat of her, the sure strength of her below soft, silken skin... They kissed, Dominique not at all sure which of them initiated it.

Their bodies melded together and Elisa felt a little faint from it, like she might just combust at this woman's first touch. Dominique turned her around slowly, backing away towards the bed. The loss of contact feeling almost torturous, Elisa pursued her wordlessly as Dominique got on the bed, sunlight bathing her in golden light so she almost seemed to glow... She got on the bed and went to her, kissing her, laying her down on the bed, only somehow she found herself on her back instead, Dominique over her, _possessing_ her, and she so easily found herself melting in the face of that...

* * *

In a suite somewhere deep under the artifice of Xanadu that was visible on the surface of the world, Raven laid in a soft bed with his lover cradled to him.

He could admit it, he told himself as he watched David Xanatos sleep with an openly intense avarice: He'd come to feel quite possessive about this mortal, human man. He ran a hand through his short brown hair just lightly, brushing his knuckles over his cheek.

Thinking back to last night, he could admit too... That, though it was true that the situation had been fairly dire—still, perhaps he'd gone a little too far. It had just been boiling up in him so long, and this last, even unknowing, insult from that woman had been all he could take. He'd... simply lost his temper. At least, he considered, he'd had the presence of mind to put David into a deep sleep before he'd vented his fury on the humans she'd sent against him.

They'd come at him from the sky, three of them, shooting directed energy weapons and small, heat-seeking missiles. One had detonated near enough for it to be a plausible cause for David's falling unconscious. They'd shot him directly then, two missile strikes and several energy beam hits, and oh how he'd roared and shrieked at the insult of that. He'd lashed out, destroying the vehicles around him and the humans who'd been trying to defend him. Only David had been safe, protected by the enchantment he'd put in place.

Then he'd launched himself into the sky and been at them. He'd torn the first one apart with his bare hands, though it hadn't been easy—though it had hurt him badly to do it. _Iron_. Those flying suits of metal armor had been girded in _iron_—the bane of all his kind. He'd had to force his magic into the seams of it, around the iron, and wrench it apart. It hadn't just torn at his body to do it either, it had felt like claws raking his very mind, his very _soul_ to do it.

The other two had been on him then. Their energy strikes, though they stung and sapped him of strength, didn't stop him, and he'd gotten the trick of knocking them aside before they got too close, so the remaining two armored humans had switched to automatic gunfire. The bullets had been laced with iron too. One had hit his arm, two went through one of his legs and he'd dropped like a stone to the ground below, barely managing to force the bullet lodged in his shoulder _out_—if he'd left it in much longer, he'd felt _dangerously_ close to fainting from the pain of it.

Hurting badly, his rage and a pain so terrible he could barely remember ever feeling the like, had led him to let loose a primal scream of raw magic at the closest human, blasting her so hard she'd landed miles away—dead, surely.

The last of the humans, their leader he'd deduced—the one David had called _Abernathy_—had come at him hard and brutal then, firing his gun and hitting Raven in the chest once before he'd managed to shift forms to vapor to get out of the way, the bullet falling to the ground as he did. Even as mist though, the iron in the bullets that passed through him next had hurt. Raven had surged forward in a winding path then until he was at the metal-clad human, changing form into a beast that took the most deadly traits from several of the animals whose forms he favored most. The fight had been savage, his opponent unflinching. He still vividly recalled the impact of the man's ironclad fist, hitting him again and again and again until Raven had been nearly insensate with pain and wild, animal fury. If that rage hadn't been burning so brightly in him, he was sure he would have succumbed to unconsciousness by that point.

In the end, he'd won. In the end, the man who'd hurt him so badly was left a bloody, torn mess on the ground. He'd ripped, torn, and beat at him long after the man had died, he was sure. By the time the reinforcements from Xanadu had arrived, Raven had managed to get enough of his wits about himself to change back into the form they would recognize as Nick Blackfeather. He'd used what little strength he'd had left to hide the bodies of Dominique's two armored assassins beneath the ground, so he'd be able to sell the lies he was even now continuing to concoct. David would wake soon, after all...

He'd been well and truly hurt though, worse than even his sometimes vicious fights with his brother, Coyote had ever inflicted. He'd known the bite of iron before, of course, but never so much all at once. He was closer to death now than he ever cared to be again.

He briefly imagined returning the favor of the hammering beating and the bullets to Dominique Destine in more than full measure one day, perhaps also including the directed energy weapons and the heat-seeking missiles as well. Something to dearly _aspire_ to, he told himself...

In his arms, David blinked awake. "What...? Nick, what just happened?" He asked. He felt dazed, as though... perhaps he'd been medicated?

"We were attacked. Again. Neither of us got out of there unscathed, I'm afraid." Raven told him. And it was true—after the beating he'd taken? He'd need months at least to heal enough to be back to his full strength. He'd heal much faster if he were home, with Avalon's magics close at hand feeding him, but, alas, though the Gathering was fast approaching, it was still almost a year hence.

"Ah, yes. Brice Abernathy... I remember." David spoke, sitting up, wincing in pain from his shoulder wound as he did. Well, if he _had_ been given sedation or pain medication, it must be nearly worn off by now apparently. "I remember missile fire..."

"Knocked you flat on your back and out like a light, I must report." Nick told him. "All the security personnel that were guarding us at the time are dead now, by the way." He told him, of course omitting the fact that most had died at _his_ hand—because, yet again, he'd let his wrath have too much free reign. "We took one of them down, she fell into the woods somewhere, probably dead. I managed to cast an invisibility over the two of us in the melee though. Once the remaining two of the assassins finished dispatching our people, they searched for us for a while, but went on their way when they were unable to pierce my enchantment to find us. Likely, they saw the reinforcements coming and didn't want to take them on if their prize was no longer on the table." He explained.

"I... see." David offered. Something in Nick's eyes as he spoke though, made him not quite so certain he should completely believe that explanation. He was developing the real sense that he was missing something important in all of this—something that had very much to do with Nick Blackfeather. He took in Nick's bruised, banged up, and bandaged form though and winced. Was he just being paranoid after Dominique's betrayal? After he'd failed so miserably to see it coming? Perhaps, but he wasn't about to dismiss the feeling out of hand quiet yet. Nick had his own ends in all of this, of course—that had never been in doubt. He'd always believed, despite that he'd never quite been able to guess those ends with any certainty, that Nick was on his side. He still believed that, or wanted to at least. That the man kept on saving his life surely was a very positive sign, obviously, but, when you came down to it, all that really guaranteed was that Nick wanted him alive—it didn't answer _why_ Nick wanted him alive. As a bedmate, surely—as a loved one, _hopefully_—but he'd found that only very simple people did anything for only _one_ reason. Nick was many things—_simple_ was unquestionably _not_ one of them... The only pertinent question was: Were Nick's designs for him at cross purpose with his own ends? Yesterday he would have said _no_ to that question. Today though...? He was uncomfortably not as sure...

"Additionally, it seems your pet gargoyle managed to escape while we were all... otherwise engaged. Her remaining guards were a skeleton crew and her handler apparently switched sides on us." Raven went on, offering up a little of a distraction. He could see David's clever mind working, see the paranoia that had started to take root in him during all of this winding about his thoughts, and he wondered just how long he'd be able to keep his secrets, and what David might think of him when all was finally revealed? Would he find himself still welcome in his bed? Even only as a pretense? Obtusely, he found himself looking forward to finding out. Not that he particularly thought it would end well, of course, but, then... he often found himself wanting things that weren't particularly good for him (let alone anyone else), didn't he? Not for the first time, he found himself feeling wistful about that...

David sighed, recalling Sophia Arden. "Well, hardly a surprise there, I suppose." He'd long suspected the woman's loyalties had shifted, but he'd let it play out because it kept the gargoyle more cooperative and he hadn't thought there'd ever come a time when Arden would have a real opportunity to betray him this way. At least not and _succeed_ at it. He'd obviously been mistaken about _that_ as well. "She's in the clear by now, I'd imagine? And likely headed right for Dominique to tell her all she knows about this place—which, admittedly, isn't nearly as much as there is to know."

"Likely the case, yes." Raven agreed. "I didn't want to send any more of our personnel out after them, seeing as Abernathy and his man would have reported our location anyway and they might be back in force any time now. We may well need all the defenders we can get if that happens, don't you think?" Another lie. This Brice Abernathy man was quite thoroughly dead, and both his compatriots beside him. If he _had_ sent people out after the gargoyle and they managed to retrieve her, then it might well have given them more time while Destine scrambled to find out what happened and confirm their location. Oh, she would still need to confirm what the two women told her, be there would be much more certainty. But no, Raven had decided. He _wanted_ her to get her little human gargoyle back, _wanted_ the story of her captivity told, _wanted_ his enemy good and _full_ of rage and righteous fury. That's what he was after in all of this after all: Her _rage_—and soon, he contented himself—_soon_, he would have it.

"Mm... Yes. But, all things considered, I'd rather not keep playing defense if I can help it." David replied, thinking of the projects he'd been using Xanadu for of late.

"What did you have in mind?" Raven asked, feeling a little giddy inside at the idea of what might be coming next. He always did like a good bonfire—literal, or figurative.

"I think..." David said, making to get up. It wasn't a comfortable experience. His gunshot wound still ached, though it had obviously been seen to while he'd been out. Thankfully though, it seemed that he'd come through his latest brush with death without _too_ much more injury. "That it's time I found out how Anton's projects are coming along."

* * *

( to be continued )

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	19. Second Chances

**Brave... Part 19: Second Chances**

* * *

Reagan Cole groggily came awake. Was someone calling her name? "Regan! Regan!" She heard. She felt the warmth of a hand on her shoulder.

She blinked her eyes open and saw sunlight. She closed her eyes and squinted. "Hey, there now. There you are, love. Not dead yet, are you?"

"Lock... Lockland?" She managed to croak out. It hurt to talk and her mouth was dry.

"Well, that proves you've got your wits about you, at least. That's good." Jericho Lockland told her. He'd come out following after Brice's assault team, meeting up with Tad's people as, per his orders, they'd been falling back to a safe distance. Jericho had gotten increasingly more concerned as the minutes had ticked on by without contact. Brice and his team had gone radio-silent leading up to the attack, but when Jericho had seen one of the assault team's emergency transceivers kick in, he'd taken action. He'd headed here and found Cole, in bad shape but still alive. He'd found her in the center of a small crater, her armor damaged enough to be almost entirely non-functional. Luckily it had still been enough to keep her alive through the impact, and her transceiver had still gotten the signal to activate when the rest of the systems had lost power. He'd sent Tad and five of his people out a while ago to look for Brice Abernathy and Trevor Marks, Cole's teammates. Jericho had stayed here and he and Sean Miles, Tad's second, had spent a goodly chunk of time carefully pealing Cole out of her armor. Meanwhile, Cameron Jamison, another of Tad's team, had been seeing to Cole's health throughout the process and was continuing to tend to her even now. Jamison only had paramedic level training though, but, even still, she'd assured them that Cole would likely live, assuming she got care in short enough order. There was a private ambulance on its way now. Cole would be back in the city and being seen by the best doctors money could buy within the hour, he'd make damn well certain of that.

"What... happened?" Reagan managed to ask, really not liking how numb she was feeling.

"As it happens, that's just what I'd been hoping you'd be able to tell me, lass." Jericho replied.

"Marks went down..." Reagan started to say. "He... and then..." But her words trailed off and she felt herself fading away into darkness, and she found that really didn't seem to mind so much.

Jericho cursed softly under his breath and stood so Jamison could continue seeing to her.

He recalled the condition Cole's armor had been in when he'd found her, and, for the life of him, he couldn't think of one weapon he'd ever heard of that could cause a pattern of damage like that.

Just what the bloody hell was he dealing with here, exactly? First Xanatos somehow manages to pull a Houdini when he'd have sworn up to the _moon_ and back that he'd had the man dead in his sights when he'd fired that first rocket into Eyrie—and he'd followed it up with a second shot after that to boot!

The most likely explanation he'd been able to think of for the man's survival would be an energy shield. He knew they were at least in the development stage at Nightstone. He didn't know whether a fully functional and deployed field of that type would be durable enough to effectively counter the kind of ordinance he'd fired into that building, or whether Xanatos even had access to that kind of tech or not, but he could hardly rule it out. The only thing was, if Xanatos really did have tech like that, why not position over the windows? It would be absurd not to in favor of placing them in random locations inside the building itself. So, what? A portable unit then? Something he could wear about his person? There was an outside chance that was it. It seemed unlikely he'd have been able to develop something like that without his employer's knowing, or at least suspecting, though—and he would have been briefed on that if that had been the case. Still, his only other notions about how Xanatos could have managed his little escape trick were a body double or a bloody trap door that had just so happened to be right under his feet! The body double was possible... but, damn it, this wasn't a damned Bond film for heaven's sake.

And now this mess. Oh, he could come up with some theories about how Xanatos had managed to take Brice's team down—that he just plain had better tech and had managed to keep it under wraps somehow being the most likely thing, but even so...

He couldn't put his finger on it quite yet, but something was definitely off about this, about all of it—markedly off. When he'd first laid eyes on Cole's armor lying there, when he'd gotten in closer to try to get her out, his eyes just... hadn't seemed to be seeing something about what he was looking at right. Like, there'd just been something about the light around it maybe. Something unnatural...

Sean came over to him then. "Just heard back from the second team, sir." He reported. "Bad news, I'm afraid. Marks didn't make it. They found the body buried near the scene... They're... cleaning the site now..."

"Nothing on Abernathy?" Jericho asked. Brice Abernathy was a good friend of his, and he didn't have many of those to spare in this world. A great shame it would be if he were lying dead out there somewhere as well...

"No sign yet, sir." Sean told him. "We're expanding the search out from the scene, looking for any sign. I wouldn't count him out yet."

"Nor I, Sean. Nor I." Jericho replied. "In fact, why don't you take a few more of our people and head over to pitch in? I'll stay here until Cole's safely off and be along to join you after that."

"Yes, sir. On my way." Sean told him, turning to go.

"Good hunting." Jericho called after him, watching on as Jamison continued to fuss over Cole. In the distance, he heard an ambulance siren. _Not long now._ He thought, finding himself sending up a prayer to whoever might care to listen that Brice Abernathy's streak of being too stubborn to die would hold out for another day.

* * *

Somewhere else entirely, Brice Abernathy slowly came to some sort of awareness. By rights, he remembered, he should be fairly writhing in agony about now. Assuming he weren't dead, of course. Recalling the nightmare of a creature that had been beating and tearing at him last he recalled, in fact, he came to the quick conclusion that dead was likely _just_ what he was.

"Open your eyes young man, and do not be afraid." A kindly voice that somehow reminded Brice of his gran spoke.

He did, and gazed about him in wonder. A vista of blue and white stretched out before him, glowing lights like an aurora drifting around the vista like clouds or the tide. He looked over towards where he sensed the voice had come from and found his body moving without effort, as though guided by his thoughts alone. Before him was an old native American woman, awash in light. Below them both was an ocean of green forest, alive with light and life. Far off in the distance, there were mountains and, in the sky near the horizon, was the sun. "Where... Where am I? Would this be the afterlife then?"

The woman smiled an indulgent smile. "In a manner of speaking, perhaps. Though not as you mean it, certainly."

"What manner of speaking would be more accurate then, if I can ask?"

"Your mortal body is dead, so by that measure so might you be considered to be." She explained. "Your magic however, yet remains. I was able to act in stealth as your body perished, to take up your magic and keep you here in the mortal world with me."

"Wait, hold on, my _magic_? I don't have any magic. Nobody does, as far as I know. Except you, maybe, and... well, I guessing the guy that killed me, come to that." Brice allowed.

"All that live have magic, Brice Abernathy, for all that live _are_ magic. Do not doubt this is so." She explained. "And do not doubt I have kept you on here in this world with me for a reason, to offer you a choice. Your struggle with my brother was a valiant one, though doomed. I would offer you a chance to _reverse_ that misfortune."

"Your brother?" Brice asked, not quite following everything she'd been saying, but getting a distinct sinking feeling about all of this anyway.

"I believe you knew him as Nick Blackfeather? Know that is not his true name."

"Doesn't surprise me, given what he turned himself into and all." Brice observed, wondering at how calm he was being about all of this. He always did have a cool head under pressure, but, even still, shouldn't all this be bothering him a bit more? "Who's he really, then?" He asked. "And, come to that, who are you, if you don't mind saying?"

"I've had many names in my life. Your kind most often have named me _Grandmother_. As for my brother... _Raven_ he is, and Raven has he ever been." Grandmother explained, a certain weariness entering her voice as she spoke the words.

"Has quite a temper on him too. Not that I could rightly blame him, I suppose. Given the circumstance." He observed. "You here for revenge then? ...Because I tried to kill him?"

"I am not. I am here, in truth, because I owe your employer a debt of gratitude, and because... whether it's wisdom or folly on my part, I've also seen fit to set myself as my brother's keeper, in hopes that one day, perhaps a day very far off indeed, he may change his ways." She told him. "We are opposites, he and I, in so many ways. His are the ways of death, falsehood, and wrath, and my conscience does not let me rest, knowing what he can inflict on the mortal races if left to his own leanings."

"Opposites you say? I take that to mean you're evenly matched, then? In terms of... whatever kind of power it is you have? Magic?" He asked...

"Just so, yes... Since long ago, it has been our way to let the mortals decide our contests, in fact. We've found it pointless to do otherwise. For me, because the destruction such a contest can cause would generally outstrip any gain I might seek. For him, because to challenge me is to cause himself pain, and to play with the mortals so is to give himself amusement. For those such as us, _amusement _is often far too valued a commodity... Regardless, what this means for you is that, for the present, I have chosen you as my champion in our latest... contest."

"Alight, think I'm following, and don't think I'm ungrateful for your having saved my life, magic, whatever you call it—I'm not. Only... why me?" He asked. "I mean, you saw me out there, you must have... I'm a killer. Ways of death and wrath? You can't mean you don't think I'm not guilty of those things myself?"

"A truth, certainly. A greater truth, however, is that far more lives have been spared through your actions than have been ended, or even negatively affected... Dominique Destine is a force for _good_ in the mortal world, though even _she_ may sometimes doubt the truth of that. She has the potential to be an even greater force of positive change, if her path is not disturbed—her faith not once more too badly shaken. As her agent, through often bitter fortitude, you have done much to further that good of which I speak." Grandmother spoke. "No, I believe I have chosen correctly."

"Okay... Well, alight then." He agreed, privately thinking what this sweet old lady probably really wanted was a bloke who wouldn't be squeamish about getting his hands dirty. Not anything new, and something he at least had plenty of experience in dealing with. Still and all, it wasn't a bad feeling being thought of as one of the good guys for a change. "What do I have to do? What _can_ I do, come to that, with only my, what you called, magic, going for me?" He asked. He didn't even know a proper _card_ trick, he considered.

Grandmother levitated over to him then, touched him with an outstretched hand, and just like that he was standing on solid ground again with his feet under him... Alive, _human_ again... and, looking down at himself he realized, naked as the day he were born. His scars were missing, he noticed, confirming to himself that this... body he was in, it wasn't the one he'd been born to. He looked up and saw a beautiful woman in a business suit in front of him—blonde hair, white jacket and slacks, blue blouse. Around them, unless he missed his guess, they were standing far out in the middle of the Australian Outback. _Sure, why not?_ He thought to himself. It wasn't as though any of this could get that much stranger, now was it? "And... who might you be then? You happen to see a kindly old woman anywhere abouts?" He asked, trying not to feel self-conscious about all this—the fact that he was out here in his birthday suit and all. He ran a hand over his head and face and found himself clean-shaven and with a full head of hair now, a couple inches long, where before he'd been sporting a short-cropped mohawk and mustache...

"So quick to let your eyes deceive you?" The woman asked. "You'll need to get better at that, and soon. But, in any case, as I am now, you can call me Anna. Anna Kates." She offered, and it was the same voice, though younger sounding and less formal, and the very same eyes. The woman in front of him _was_ Grandmother—though she sure as heck didn't _look_ the part anymore.

He raised an eyebrow. "Well you sure don't look like anyone's gran like this, I'll tell you that Anna."

She smiled just slightly. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment."

"Right... So, here I am not dead and all. Unless I miss my guess, we're deep in my old stomping grounds, far into the interior of the Australian Outback. I take it, what, you've got some test for me? Like a quest from a story book? To prove I'm worthy? Or is it game day already, and your brother's out there somewhere, waiting?" Brice asked.

Anna laughed just a little. "More the former, I'd say." She told him. "No, my brother's still back in New York, likely tending to that new lover of his. Quite a thing, really. He usually doesn't keep a man in his bed so long. It's actually given me a bit of hope."

"So, he's a gay then?" Brice asked. "I know they have it rough a lot of the time. That what happened to him?" Meanness, he knew, had a way of making a man either break, or get strong enough to fight back. The thing was, when you did get strong enough, you could end up worse than the one who'd been on you in the first place, you weren't careful.

She looked surprised. "No. Well, yes, he is gay I suppose, at the moment, or at least he's always preferred men in his bed. He does change himself into a woman to court them at times though, when he's in the mood. And no, that isn't what's made him the way he is. Our kind have no true genders, you see, and so naturally no prejudice around them. That your kind often _do_ probably hasn't helped his disposition, I'll allow, but... no. No, if anything, I suppose his childhood is to blame..."

"Childhood?" Brice found himself asking.

"Yes... By your kind's measure, I suspect you'd find the tale both strikingly dramatic, in an uncommon sort of way, and all too common place at the same time. Our mother, or, I suppose you might say _my_ mother, Raven's _father_, Titania, in the time before humanity, spent time in many forms, including that of a male raven." Anna explained. "She got her seed on a lady raven and didn't realize her... mistake. She'd been in a spat with Oberon over the fate of our race at the time, and, to hear her tell it, all too distracted. Even still, it was very _careless_ if you ask me—but then, my kind so often are—even me. It was centuries before his magic flared strongly enough that I, being close by, recognized it as a near match for my own and went to investigate the mystery. He'd been half a bear, half raven, and laughing in mad delight as the forest burned around him when I found him. Even to this day, he's never told me enough of his life before I found him for me to know the whys of him. But he's my brother, and I've always felt that he's my responsibility somehow. I'm not sure I could tell you exactly why."

"It's family. It's a rare day there's any sense to it." Brice remarked, thinking of his own family with decidedly mixed feelings—_guilt_, both for often disappointing them and for not staying in touch with them more than he had chief among them.

Anna laughed again, and it struck Brice the effect it had on him. It started him thinking about her in a way it wasn't right for any man to think of a grandmom in, lest it were a grand_dad_ doing the thinking. "You might just be on to something there." She observed, her gaze traveling down Brice's body then, to his, he belatedly realized, now partially engorged manhood. "Flattering." She commented a little playfully. "Alas, I'm already seeing someone at the moment."

"Ah, right." He looked down at himself. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, you shouldn't be." Anna told him. "You're a heterosexual male in the prime of your life—body fit, fetching, and sure. Looking as I do now, I think I'd more rightfully be insulted if I _didn't_ elicit such a reaction."

"Right, well... That's all well and good, but I don't suppose you'd be willing to at least magic up me a pair of trousers, would you?" Brice replied, wondering if she'd not done so up until now for the free show, or if she'd done it to put him off his ease.

"As you wish." She told him, giving him an enigmatic smile as she waved her hand, conjuring him that pair of trousers and a shirt.

"That's a good bit better, I suppose." Brice said, considering. "So, uh, gotta ask here: Why Australia?" He asked.

"We're here so you can learn a few things, as it happens." She told him, looking away from him and off into the distance.

"What sort of things?" Brice asked, noticing the smoke from a campfire off in the distance where she was looking.

"Things you'll need to know to be of use to me." She told him, both of them turning back in unison to lock gazes once again. "Walk towards the fire, Brice. Ask the one you find there to teach you. I will come to find you when it's time."

Brice's gaze had drifted over in the direction of the fire again as she'd spoken. "Alright, if you say so, but..." He trailed off, looking back over to where Anna had been standing and finding her gone without a trace.

"_Blimey_..." He shook his head, a certain feeling of the world having shifted greatly under him more than he'd realized coming over him.

He looked off into the horizon again then, giving himself a few long moments to think on things. Whether or not he was really up for going through with this or not, he had to admit he didn't have all too much choice in the matter. Aside from the fact that he'd been left with only a shirt and trousers to his name—no shoes, no water, no food, no bloody currency for that matter (all the good it would do him out here anyway), the lady had the power to bring the dead to life and travel the world in the blink of an eye. He kind of doubted he'd be getting the better of her in any of this, even if he were inclined to try—and, as it happened, he wasn't. Being the would-be hero of a cockeyed fairytale was a damned sight better than being dead, after all, in his estimation.

"Well, nothing else for it, I suppose." He said to himself as he started on walking towards that fire.

* * *

( to be continued )

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	20. Easy As Breathing, Harder Than Stone

**Brave... Part 20: Easy As Breathing, Harder Than Stone**

* * *

Dominique found herself drifting in a state of thoughtless, blissful contentment. Warmth suffused her entire body to where she felt like she was glowing with it from deep inside, and she felt so completely satisfied... Elisa was cuddled up half on top of her, her lover's head snuggled into the crook of her left shoulder, and it felt like a perfect moment. Wanting to treasure it, treasure the way she felt right now, she found herself absently stroking Elisa's hair and paying renewed attention to the feel of her body against hers, breathing in her lover's scent mixed with her own. She consciously willed herself to remember all of it. In a moment of reality though, she soon turned her head to glance over to check the time, feeling immediately guilty that she'd tarried here so long. Una and the others would be worried, she knew... but, she made the selfish decision that she could afford to stay a _little_ while longer. Her clan were safe, after all—as safe as she could make them, behind the mansion's walls. She reminded herself again that having her there wouldn't make them significantly more so, and might in fact put them in more danger, as she was Xanatos's target in all of this.

Elisa made a sound that was halfway between a hum and a moan and shifted, snuggling in closer. "Hey you..." She said softly.

Dominique chuckled softly and rolled Elisa over onto her back. Looking down into vaguely surprised, still drowsy eyes, Dominique moved down to kiss her. Elisa welcomed her, slowly waking more as the kissing went on. She arched up to her, wrapping her arms about her shoulders and back and humming in contentment. Dominique settled her down on the bed however, backing off before things got too intense again, though she really did feel like she could happily make love like this with this woman for the rest of the day. Part of it, she knew, she could blame on the sunlight, but really that was only a side note to what she was feeling—she had enough experience by now recognize the difference... even if that hadn't always been entirely the case. "What are you thinking right now?" She found herself asking as she gazed down into Elisa's open, expressive eyes. Their lovemaking had been so beautiful, but Dominique wanted more from this. She wanted to know this woman more, wanted to _talk_ with her again the way they had, the way that had led them to fall in bed together as they had—the way that had made her heart want to give itself away and confess things she normally guarded so vigilantly from the world...

"How beautiful you are...?" Elisa told her softly, drinking in Dominique's thoughtful regard. "Both your body, and the ways you express yourself... especially as a lover..." Elisa confessed to her, thinking to herself that might not be all she was thinking. "And, I guess, a part of me might be wondering too... what happens next?" She asked.

Dominique smiled. "What would you like to happen?" She asked.

Elisa laughed softly. "I don't know, maybe we could try going out on a date?" She offered.

Dominique smiled warmly, charmed. She ran her fingers through Elisa's hair. A date, she knew, was a part of human courtship. "You want to court me? You'd... welcome that? Welcome me if I made... further advances toward a marriage?" She asked, finding herself hoping very much Elisa would tell her that she would. Elisa Maza had touched something in her, she considered to herself—made her _feel_ things... When she'd been young, she'd had a love affair with one of her clan sisters. But she had been the one pursued, and, while she'd loved her in a way, it hadn't been... When she'd realized her feelings for Goliath though, as uncommon as it was for their kind to marry with someone of the opposite gender, she'd told her sister of her feelings and she'd _pursued_ Goliath... and he'd accepted her advances. In the time since though, she'd only once actually wanted to pursue anyone else that way, and her feelings of guilt and loss had so muddled her at the time that she hadn't let herself really try. But here, now, she very much wanted to pursue Elisa... _That_ told her all too much about how serious a thing this could become for her. It was a daunting prospect...

Elisa paused to think a moment at Dominique's phrasing, but then smiled when she realized that she _was_ actually having this conversation in bed with a woman who was a thousand years old and born of another race of beings entirely. Of course Dominique wouldn't see _courtship_ the way a modern American woman would. And it wasn't actually an inaccurate way of putting it, when you thought about it. Would she herself want to pursue a relationship with a woman that she didn't think had at least a fair possibility of progressing towards permanence? Towards marriage, despite that the law wouldn't recognize it as such? No, she just wouldn't expect the woman in question to say it that way, and not at this point in the progression of things. "Yeah." She said fondly as she ran her own fingers through Dominique's wilding hair in return. She decided also that she'd have to ask Dominique more about gargoyle courtship customs at some point too—just not now. "Yeah... I think I definitely would." She admitted, feeling on shaky ground a little all of the sudden, wondering if she'd gotten herself in over her head, and remembering also all the reasons why she might not be the best catch for someone at the moment—or, more, the _one_ reason...

"You've only just met me." Dominique told her, trying to hide just how much relief she felt at Elisa's words. "We aren't even the same species."

Elisa smiled to her and met her eyes. "You're the one who kissed me. Are _you_ worried about those things?" Elisa asked, feeling vulnerable all over again, but stubbornly pushing through it.

"No... No, I'm not. If I had any sense, given my history with your kind, maybe I _would_ worry, _should_ worry. But _no_, you've _proven_ yourself to me, Elisa. Proven your heart is true, and I've decided to simply trust in that." Dominique admitted with soft sincerity.

Elisa sighed and averted her gaze. "I hope I can live up to your expectations..." She replied softly.

"Why...? Is there some reason why you wouldn't?" Dominique asked, a stab of suspicion blooming in her—a stab of guilt too, for all the reasons why perhaps she should be offering Elisa a similar disclaimer at about this time as well... She was reminded again of what Wen told her and Fox once. She'd never forgotten it: _We're all of us works in progress. We three, we're lucky, and we're cursed, in that we have forever to try to get it right._ It was still woefully daunting to think about, but it didn't mean it was necessarily any less the truth.

Elisa met Dominique's searching, now somewhat wary gaze again. "Nothing like that." She told her shaking her head a little.

Dominique let out a breath, having been half afraid Elisa had been about to confess she really had been part of some scheme of Xanatos's after all. "What then?" She asked softly, stroking Elisa's cheek and gazing at her with open compassion, trying to tell her that, whatever it was, she would be safe in the confession... just as Elisa had made her feel safe before, in her own confessions...

Elisa swallowed. "I suppose you might say that I'm damaged goods." She told her.

"How so?" Dominique asked, her heart going out to this woman all over again.

"I was in love with someone." Elisa spoke quietly, looking away again as she did. "We'd built a life together, even talked about maybe starting a family. It's been a while since it happened, but... she died." There was something of a hard edge to the words, some clinging remnants of bitterness at this too. "...I'd be lying if I said I was over it." She met Dominique's eyes. "So... you know, if you... If you want to, um, pursue me, this, between us... I guess it just seems like something I should tell you, that I'm still seeing a therapist about that sometimes." She offered a little hesitantly. She felt really exposed right now, and a part of her really wanted to just stop talking, or change the subject, but... she knew that wasn't right, for either of them, and... it felt right to be honest with her this way. It felt good to make the confession. She just wished she had a better handle on her feelings right now... She hadn't seen Dominique's kiss coming in the kitchen before, and it was startling to her how much she craved to be kissed that way again right now...

Dominique didn't answer right away, she just found herself studying Elisa carefully, compassion and understanding warring with feelings and memories of her own that she didn't really want to consider again at the moment. She smiled a little. "You're probably in good company then." She told her softly.

"Yeah... I guess maybe I am." Elisa admitted, gazing into Dominique's eyes and seeing a depth of understanding and empathy there she'd never seen in... anyone before. The sheer intensity and complexity of thought and emotion Elisa saw in this woman was almost frightening sometimes. "What you must have seen through your life... what you must have to carry..." Elisa mused. She could hardly imagine how she might come to think about Margot's death if she were left to live with it for a thousand years—never knowing the why of it. Let alone if she were also dealt the death of a child, of a family, nearly... of a race...

Dominique smiled softly. "More than I'd like, sometimes, I'll admit." She offered. "Somehow though, with you? Here? Now? It feels almost like... I could learn to be a different person. As though I might be living a different life than the one I have been. It's a gift—one more thing I have to thank you for." She moved in to kiss Elisa unhurriedly, more as a way to show simple intimacy and emotion, rather than as a prelude or invitation to make love again. And Elisa melted seamlessly against her, wrapping her arms around her... Dominique was breathing hard, her heart beating faster once their lips finally parted. "So extraordinary..." She spoke in soft wonder.

"What?" Elisa asked with a warm smile, feeling safe, loved, understood in a way she'd often thought she'd never find again.

"You..." Dominique told her, touching Elisa's hair again, seemingly never tiring of running her fingers through it. "That you... You give me so much hope, that the world really can be better one day... that perhaps my kind will find a place in the open again—find peace... even though it may take another thousand years..." She mused softly. "What I am, it truly doesn't make a difference to you, does it? Even for... Even to share your bed with me?"

Elisa smiled. "Why? Is there some reason why it should make a difference?" She asked, bringing a hand to one of Dominique's shoulders and trailing the touch over her bicep.

Dominique smiled back a little. "Well, other than the fact that, as my... other self, we wouldn't be very... compatible... no, I suppose there isn't." She told her.

Elisa considered that. "No, I... suppose we wouldn't be, would we?" She admitted, thinking of Dominique as a gargoyle. Sharp teeth, claws that could pierce stone, skin that could walk over broken glass. She'd be lucky to _survive_ the experience if they tried... "Does that bother you?" She asked, wondering if Dominique would see that as a sacrifice—never being able to be with the woman she was with in the body she was born to.

Dominique considered that, glancing down at her bracelet and contemplating something she hadn't thought of in a long time. She met Elisa's eyes again. "I suppose it isn't ideal, but then life so rarely is, is it?" She told her, deciding that she'd made more than her share of impulsive decisions for one morning. She'd think about this later. There was no need to rush things any more than she already had. The idea of a lengthy courtship with this woman, of _dating_ her, actually putting her in an uncharacteristically lighthearted and optimistic mood.

"No... No, it's really not." Elisa told her, bringing a hand up to caress her lover's face. "There are moments when it sure does seem like it can be though..."

Dominique bit her lip a little. That Elisa had slipped past her heart's defenses, defenses she'd thought so solidly built, with such apparent ease... This woman could change her, shake all her moorings, if she let her... She could sense it. Some people could do that—some people_ had_ done that to her—she knew the signs. Living so long, it was amazing and burdensome to her just how much she could see—how many truths were apparent to her, and how many lies had become so _transparent_ to her... even ones she'd told to herself. She very much hadn't known what she'd resigned herself to that day so long ago when three sisters had made their offer to her. Should she let Elisa brush past any more of her defenses? Could she risk so much? "It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Dominique ended up telling her softly, moving in just a little shyly for another kiss.

Elisa felt her heart racing as their lips met again, as they kissed long and increasingly deeply. She gasped a little when Dominique rocked up against her and kissed her more demandingly. Memories of their so recent lovemaking came vividly to her and she knew it wouldn't take much more of this and she'd be ready again. Breathing hard though, Dominique unsteadily broke off the kiss. Elisa stared up at her a little dumbly, her body telling her insistently to just pull Dominique back down onto her and do what they both clearly wanted again.

"I'm sorry." Dominique told her a little breathlessly. "I really shouldn't have done that. I've already tarried here with you longer than it's been wise to." She explained, searching Elisa's eyes for understanding.

Elisa sighed. "Right. Xanatos... You need to..."

"It will be taken care of. Soon." Dominique promised her. "We'll have our time." She told her. "We'll have our date. If I weren't properly motivated to resolve this, I certainly am now." She offered.

Elisa closed her eyes and tried to think. She opened them again and met her lover's gaze. "You're..." She knew what they were talking about here. Dominique was going to have this man killed, or she was going to do it herself. "I'd be lying if I said I liked to think about what you're going to do." She confessed.

"Elisa..." Dominique spoke, worry and a little shame creeping in.

"No, I know. I can't offer you a better choice. I wish I could, but..." She touched Dominique's hair, loving how wild it looked. On television, she'd worn in back in a ponytail. She'd looked beautiful, but she looked no less so now—heartbreakingly so. She thought of this woman strapped down on a table somewhere, being _hurt_, being _experimented_ on. "But I can't, and I can't tell you that I wouldn't kill him myself in fact, not if it meant keeping you safe from him—from what he'd do to you." She told her. It turned her stomach a little, but she meant it too. She'd lost Margot and never really found out how it had happened, despite obsessively trying to uncover the truth for months after. She wouldn't let anything like that happen to Dominique. She wasn't sure she'd be able to live with it if she did.

Dominique regarded her with a mild sense of wonder. "You truly mean that, don't you?" She asked softly.

"I do. I... I want to help you." She told her. "I want to keep you safe." She confessed.

"...Why?" Dominique asked.

Elisa considered. "Because it's the right thing to do. Because the thought of what that man would do to you makes me sick... Because I couldn't protect the woman I love once before, and the idea of going through that again scares me more than anything else ever has." She admitted in a quiet voice.

Dominique quirked a smile. "You love me?" She asked, wondering what Elisa meant about not having been able to protect the woman she'd been with before. She decided though that Elisa would tell her when she was ready. Besides, if anyone should know to be understanding and empathetic about a thing like that, she knew well that it should be her. She had no rights at all to do otherwise.

Elisa's heart beat faster. "Love isn't..." She started, touching her lover's face again as she gazed into her eyes. "It's not nearly as hard to do as people make it out to be. I love a lot of people. My family, friends, people I work with, people I protect..."

"Is that what I am to you then?" She asked playfully. "A just a person you protect? Another citizen in your precinct?"

Elisa smiled and cupped the back of her head, bringing her down for another lingering kiss, one that very definitely spoke to the absurdity of the question just asked. "What do _you_ think?" Elisa asked softly, almost in a whisper, once the kiss broke.

"I think..." Dominique closed her eyes and let out a breath, steadying herself. She opened her eyes again. "I think that you aren't just someone I'd like to protect either, but that, at the same time... You are still someone I do _want_ to protect... I'm not at all sure I should let you become more involved with me, not until this matter is resolved."

Elisa looked into her eyes. Trust: That's what she was being asked for. She sighed. "Just promise me you'll come to me if you need my help?" She asked.

Dominique gazed into Elisa's eyes and saw the turmoil and past hurts writ plainly within. "I promise." She told her softly. She didn't mean her words lightly either. She'd freely given her word, and she hoped she had enough honor left in her to bind herself to keep it.

"Alight then." Elisa accepted, turning her head to the side to look at the clock on the nightstand. It read 1:12 PM. "Wow." She said, a little smile coming to her lips as she turned to looked back up to Dominique. "I hadn't realized so much of the day had gone by."

Dominique returned the smile, glancing at the clock herself and trying not to let her worry show. It really hadn't been wise to do this, to let herself be out of contact for so long. "Do you have duties of your own to attend to?" She found herself asking.

Elisa hummed a little in acknowledgment, not missing the worry in her lover's eyes. "I don't have to be in until later, but yeah. Paper work, and I think I'm probably going to have to give my report about last night to my captain in person." She admitted. Normally, Elisa knew she'd be scheduled to be off today after not having had a day off in so long, but the events last night meant she'd at least need to go in long enough to file a report, even if Captain Chavez didn't want to hear about it in person, which she doubted. Besides, she thought to herself, she had David Xanatos to look into. No matter what Dominique said, she was going to see if there was something she could do about this guy for her.

"Will... Will it cause you any trouble, do you think?" Dominique asked as she got up to sitting, not wanting it to sound like she doubted Elisa's trustworthiness, or her ability. At this point, even if her trustworthiness _were_ in doubt, there was nothing she could do about it anyway. She just wanted to know what to expect.

Elisa smiled, sitting up in bed too. "Well, any time an officer discharges their weapon in the line of duty, the paperwork is hellacious. I like to think they make it that way partly so we'll make sure to _think_ before we resort to it—if for no other reason than the headache it'll probably give us later... Other than that though, I think we should be okay here. If something urgent had come up, I would have gotten a call." She'd called in the morning when the Captain's shift had started, before Dominique had woken up, and nothing had seemed amiss. She'd just been told to take her time and come in when she felt like it. "It's... I mean, I don't much like the idea of lying through my teeth to my captain. She's a good friend, after all, not just a superior officer, but there's not really another good option, so... The mercs, the ones that were left anyway... I guess they could be a problem if anything could. I expect they'll likely keep quiet about the whole thing and let their lawyers do the talking, though." Elisa offered. "I imagine they won't want to cross Xanatos if he's the kind of guy to hire them for a job like the one they were on—not to mention the fact that they'd have a hard time getting people to believe they weren't nuts if they started accusing you of not being human. Besides, right now I'd guess all they're being charged with would be breaking and entering, resisting arrest, destruction of private property, and maybe attempted robbery. I could add attempted murder of a police officer, but, if we're trying to keep eyes off this, that wouldn't be a good idea... When added charges don't come their way from me, they'll know that anything they say or admit to would only make things worse for them. Their gear was mostly non-lethal ordinance after all, so if their lawyers don't pull something shady to get them off entirely, they could only be looking at a year or two for the charges as they'd stand, depending on how willing the D.A. is to make a deal."

Dominique smiled a little at how intelligent Elisa was, how her mind worked. In some ways, she seemed so young to her, but in others she seemed so wise and so steadfast. She moved to kiss her again, because she couldn't think of anything to say right then. Just a short kiss, but one that was full of emotion. "I trust you." She told her. "And I'd say that I regret involving you in all of this, regret asking you to lie to your friend for my sake as I have... but it wouldn't be true. I feel honored to have met you, Elisa. Honored to have shared your bed, to have been able to... share my heart with you... I..." She felt herself trembling a little inside at the thought of just how much she'd let this woman see of her, and how much she was yet hiding from her. There was no equity to it at all, she knew—Elisa could not possibly hold so many secrets, or so very many shames...

"Hey." Elisa said softly, cupping her cheek. "Likewise, okay?" She offered. "This will all work out, you'll see. I'm holding you too that date, alright? And, so you know... I'm honored too, and for the same reasons." She told her meaningfully.

Dominique smiled, feeling joy fill her heart again, despite her misgivings.

Elisa smiled back. "Can I at least offer you a ride home?" She asked, hopeful she'd get to spend at least that much more time with this woman.

"...I think I'd like that, yes." Dominique admitted, moving to kiss her again once more for good measure.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	21. An Everyday Sort of Life

**Brave... Part 21: An Everyday Sort of Life**

* * *

Jason Langston felt dead tired as he walked down a side ally in a lower-middleclass residential part of the city. The sun had risen more than half an hour ago and he'd still not gotten a wink of sleep. Not that, present circumstances being what they were, he had much of any right to. He'd straight up failed in his job, after all—worse, he'd let the Demon best him, best his family, all over again. There'd been another attack out in the country too. It had been repelled, but the loss of life... A terrible, heavy thing to bear. What was more, it showed him plainly that this struggle between Xanatos and the Demon was far from over and time was not on his side. He needed to get a handle on this. He needed to find out who the Demon was using to carry out these attacks, and, most importantly, if she were truly guilty of something that would justify her death.

Last night, with Anna, it had been domestic bliss for him—all the things happily-ever-afters were made of in romance novels and the fairytales he'd read to his younger brother and sister growing up at bed times. Truly, if he'd have been asked to describe the perfect woman for him, his imaginings wouldn't have held a candle to the reality of Anna Kates. He'd sometimes caught himself wondering if she were just too good be true in fact, and he'd felt guilty for thinking it—guilty for being with her—for not being the kind of man, not being able to offer her the kind of life she deserved.

His work hours were horrible sometimes—but so too were hers, he'd told himself. She was a crusader for the good, and he was a hunter of the wicked. Neither of them led lives that could be easily lent to... to settling down and starting a family. Oh, but he _wanted_ that though—wanted it more every time they kissed, every time he looked into her eyes, or took her to bed.

But he couldn't have it, and wouldn't want to inflict that on any child of his, as long as he hunted the Demon. He'd lived that life, he and his siblings too, and he'd not want to perpetuate that hardship, or that legacy, on to anyone—least of all onto his own children... No. He would end his family's burden here, in this city, in his own lifetime, and _then_ he would let himself think of a wife, of children... Then he would give himself, heart and soul, to that, and do his damnedest to forget that the Demon or David bloody Xanatos had ever existed at all.

So, to that end, he couldn't afford to fail—not again. At times like this though, he found himself wondering if it was even possible to succeed in the way he yearned for. His family had hunted the Demon down through the centuries, and thwarted her a time or two, or so the stories told... but none of his blood had ever felled her. She went on—immortal and unyielding. Perhaps his family had been tilting at this windmill for time immemorial and had never had any chance of winning through? They'd called her the Demon—could she truly be one somehow? And, if she was, could she never truly be stopped—only thwarted and kept at bay? Were his children and his brother's children and his sister's children and their children's children and children's grandchildren and ever on doomed to the same fate as he, lest the world someday fall if they should ever falter too badly?

Maudlin thoughts he was having, he knew... He didn't usually indulge them this way, but... what a thing he'd found awaiting him when he'd gotten in after responding to Keith Redding's phone call last night. A good portion of the Eyrie Building's top floors were a burnt out mess, a working man who'd been on the floor below emptying trash bins had died when the ceiling had fallen onto him from above, there'd been the dead bodies of hired killers to be dealt with, police to be diplomatic with... and, to top it all off, Nick Blackfeather and Matt Bluestone in aggregate had ended up giving him a truly _memorable_ headache.

Sly and a schemer Nick Blackfeather was, and more trouble than any one man or woman deserved... or perhaps, he considered, any man besides that troublesome employer of his. They made a good match, probably they did. He didn't particularly begrudge Xanatos for taking a male lover, though it did make him a bit uneasy to see them together and acting romantic if he were honest... He didn't know if such a thing would doom a man's soul as the church said it would, but it was likely a moot point in any case where David Xanatos was concerned. If there _were_ a wrathful God above them in the heavens who'd cast a man down to the burning depths for transgressing against him in any manner he so chose (and he'd long ago started to harbor doubts if there actually were such a one), then, very likely, with all Xanatos had done to become as rich and powerful as he'd made of himself, the man had consigned himself to burning long before he'd ever met Blackfeather. Whatever the case, unless Blackfeather made of himself an impediment to him fulfilling his family's duty, it was far from being any concern of his.

Down near the end of the alley he walked, unlocking a door and entering into the darkness beyond. Down a hallway he went, and up a flight of stairs to a room on the four-story building's second floor. A blond man was there in the room, sitting on the floor against a wall reading a book. On seeing him, his brother, John, put aside his reading and stood to greet him. He wore average clothes and looked like a man who'd just done an honest day's work—Jason found that he was almost envious of that.

The building they were in was scheduled to be gutted on the morrow and turned into low income housing next month. John had a job as a shift worker here for the moment. One in a long line of odd jobs he took under various names for various reasons having to do with their investigations. In this case, this building was owned by a subsidiary of Nightstone Unlimited, part of a city-wide initiative on its part to improve the lives of the downtrodden... John was here trying to dig up wrongdoings. That was the mystery they'd found themselves burdened with—that either the Demon had, several years back, all the sudden taken it upon herself to become a humanitarian, or there was some cancer in all of this they'd yet to figure the workings of.

That the _creature_ that had murdered his father in cold blood was doing such things now, and at the same time as she was ordering an assassination, twisted something in his gut he didn't know how to put a name to just yet.

"You look like you've been through it." John said to him.

"That I have." Jason replied, going to give his little brother a hug (or, not so little a brother any longer he reminded himself, as they were now of a similar height). "What do you have for me?" He asked.

John sighed. "The man you'll want, I have a name for you: Jericho Lockland. I'm not certain of much more than that—not yet."

"The name might well be enough." Jason answered, a predatory gleam coming to his eyes.

He'd _find_ this man. He'd _make_ him tell all. He'd get to the bottom of _all_ of this.

Things were moving at last—he could feel it.

* * *

Across the Atlantic ocean, some 5,600 kilometers away and 5 hours ahead, in a bustling public square in Shoreditch, London, England, Dominique's friend and onetime lover, Fox, sat at a table in an outdoor plaza. She was talking with a gallery proprietor named Hamilton Worth, and his buyer/business partner, Olivia Kane. Fox had come to consider both of them friends, despite the facts that they'd first met when she'd been promoting her lover, Lowenna's work about town, and that they continued to sell her work at their gallery to this day.

"Her work can be just so otherworldly at times, especially lately, while, in other cases, so real and... wonderfully ordinary." Hamilton mused, sipping his tea. "It wasn't that way in the beginning... but then, I suppose that's just Wen's growing as an artist. Happens to the best of us, you know. People have such a wide range of reactions. I have to say, it's getting quite interesting to observe."

"I'm sure she'd be delighted to hear you say so." And she would too—Lowenna (_Wen_ for short) adored having herself or her work sincerely flattered. Fox sipped her own tea, which was blackberry leaf, her mind wandering to the store inventorying Shelley, her and Wen's assistant shopkeeper, had suggested yesterday. Fox and Wen had done that a few times over the last several years—once it had just been the two of them, and once had been when Mark had been with them. She wondered whatever had happened to Mark. He'd met a woman and moved to Wales with her, she recalled. He'd wanted be an actor, hadn't he? Had he ever managed it, or had he gotten himself in the family way with that lady of his and given it up? Did they still have his number? She made a mental note to call him and catch up. Really, things like that slipped her mind far too easily sometimes. There was just so much in her life these days. "So, this exhibit in Hoxton you're putting on...?" She questioned, bringing her mind back to the subject at hand.

"We'd like to feature your girl quite prominently, Ms. Fox." Olivia provided, smiling gently as she sipped her espresso (breaker of British tradition that she was).

"Now, now, none of that again. It's just _Fox_, remember...?" Fox reminded her playfully. "I'd also enjoy being called _Foxy_, if you're ever in the mood." Olivia did have a habit of being fairly formal in business matters, but Fox was certain her friend only called her _Ms. Fox_ during business meetings sometimes as a tease, not because she was genuinely forgetful on the matter, _and_ because she enjoyed the flirting game they had going between them. Olivia was straight, and Fox was very much already taken, so of course it wouldn't go anywhere. It was just their thing. Or Fox rather liked to think so anyway—that Olivia didn't make a habit of just flirting with any random lesbian she encountered. Not that, she considered, she herself _was_ a lesbian, strictly speaking. It wasn't even the fact that she'd been with a few men over the years, because she'd hadn't been since she was much younger. No, it was more that Wen had taught her how to use her inborn talents as a changeling several years ago, even before things had gotten so serious between them, so Fox knew she could just as easily _become_ a man herself if she ever wanted. She hadn't tried it so far, and Wen was set in her ways about that too, not having experimented with a male gender since her youth hundreds of thousands of years into the distant past before human kind had even been created, but Wen had told her once that their kind, the children of Avalon, really _had_ no true gender. She'd told her that the bodies they presented to the world were only adornments and expressions to them, when what was true was all only a blazing fire of magics. That being the case, Fox supposed, it might be impossible to accurately label her as a lesbian, or anything else but a changeling, actually. How could you accurately label someone without a real gender with a gender-specific label, after all? True, Fox knew she was only a half-breed (half human, half fae) but Wen and her mother both had assured her that that really didn't count for much in the long run, because the more she used her magic, the more fae she would become, until, in due course, she'd lose all traces of humanity. She hadn't used her magic very much over the last few years, but she had done so _more_ than enough the years prior when she'd traveled the world with Dominique that she really didn't think there was much likelihood that there was any humanity left in her by this point. If there were, she doubted it was more than a few drops... She still wasn't sure how she felt about that, or about a lot of things, actually...

"Right, yes, sorry Foxy." Olivia smiled fondly, her eyes dancing a little. "...Anyway, her work would be one of our two centerpieces."

"Her reputation is spreading more than it ever has." Hamilton laughed. "My good friends, Brice and Ellen Wentworth, swear the seascape of hers they purchased last month sometimes seems almost _alive_ to them when they look at it. Can you imagine?"

Fox smiled. "Oh, you'd be surprised at all the things I can imagine some days." She mused, feeling warmed by the compliments to her lover's work. As proud as Wen could be of herself sometimes, Fox was even more so, she was sure. She cherished everything about the woman it seemed. She only hoped they could manage to keep what they'd found with one another in the long term. The Gathering wasn't that far away, and Fox still didn't like to think about what that could mean for the life she and Wen had built here for themselves, let alone what the endless millennia after could portend. Could any of the fae, of which she could now count herself among, say they'd fallen in love and stayed so to this day? Her mother certainly couldn't—that, at least, she knew. She knew also that she and her mother had an often-times uncomfortable number of traits in common... She only wished she knew what had happened between her and Oberon, but her mother would never say, and Fox herself had yet to meet the man.

"I've no doubt." Hamilton said warmly. He was a very kind sort of man—trusting, with not much of a head for the uglier side of business. Luckily, Olivia was sharp enough to keep them from any bad dealings in the business world, and his (as yet, not legally recognized) husband, Anders Lanning, had a head for numbers (he traded stocks professionally). Hamilton himself had an eye for presentation, visually and in words, possibly owing to him being an artist himself—a sculptor of some modest yet genuine skill who sold his work on consignment through a friend of Olivia's.

"Who's the other featured artist going to be?" She asked, curiously. These things mattered. She only wished she could draw her lover out enough to take part in conversations like this more often... but Wen was in a wistful and wandering mood today and had begged off. She often did so. She liked playing at being mortal, but she had a weakness for mischief and meddling that tended to come out when she was asked to converse with mortals in the more superficial types of social settings. Trying to engage Wen in small talk could be rather like waving a red flag in front of a bull sometimes... Really, the ease and skill of her deviousness as a conversationalist were, at times, simply breathtaking to watch. She could start or end romances, break up or save marriages, cause or mend rifts between friends or family, and often without anyone but Fox being the wiser. Fox supposed it came from having lived as long as she had... Wen was people watching a little ways away right now, something she seemed to find endlessly fascinating... It was actually surprising, how at peace Wen had been with her these last few years. She seemed almost a different person altogether than the woman she'd been when they'd met.

"His name is James Harper." Olivia supplied. "I don't suppose you recognize the name?"

"I do, actually." Fox answered. "I saw a piece of his in a little shop on the Thames a few months ago—a watercolor of a stalking leopard. It was fairly compelling."

"I've seen that one." Olivia answered, lively. She obviously admired the artist in question—and not only for his work, Fox would guess by the slightly hungry look in her eyes. Olivia had a weakness for artists when it came to dating, Fox had learned, but also had a hard time staying in a relationship. Wen had even played matchmaker for her once, and it had all fallen through the very next day. When Fox had asked her about it, Olivia had only said that she supposed she had standards that were too high. Fox hadn't been able to argue that, because, besides Wen and Dominique, she'd gone through a very long list of lovers herself, and had rarely stayed with them for very long. Things with Dominique had been intense, often heady, often stormy or heart-wrenching, but never very stayed, and never very simple. She'd loved her, loved her still, but had she been in love? She... liked to think she had, but that time in her life was still so twisted up in her memories, all tangled about with guilt and her falling out with her mother, that it was hard to really know what she felt or had felt much of the time... Except for that love and friendship of course, those she was sure of if nothing else. Wen, on the other hand, she was far from uncertain about... This time, here, with her? She knew she could truly say without any doubts... that she'd fallen deeply in love... And it was a simple, uncomplicated, freeing sort of feeling too, one she hoped would last... maybe forever. So, maybe she had high standards too, or at least particular ones? She only hoped Olivia would someday find someone like that for herself. Most people didn't, she knew—by naïve or dower choice, or by poor circumstance.

"You think their work will complement well?" Fox asked.

"Oh, very much so." Hamilton answered. "Their styles are different enough to contrast, but similar enough that they look at home together."

"They're both quite innovative as well, and should appeal to roughly the same demographics." Olivia added.

Fox smiled, pleased. "What do you think attendance will be like?"

* * *

A ways across the square, the woman who was now calling herself Lowenna O'shaughnessy sat on a short wall backed by flowering hedges that circled statuary. Currently, she was watching a mortal woman, slowed and fading with age and fast-approaching death, who was feeding a small gathering of pidgins. Mortals were almost always so open and jumping with all kinds of winding emotions, ones that were all plain as day to see to anyone who knew what to look for.

Her better half was over talking with their friends, Olivia and Hamilton, around a nearby table. She glanced over at her, at her Fox—her trusted friend, her princess, her lover, her beloved one... It was such a strange thing, having someone to be her friend, to be her lover, to be in love... The fact that she was a princess to her people, that she was Titania's half-breed daughter, didn't matter much in comparison, truly... though it was true she'd have to be more than daft to ever want to get on the wrong side of the queen. That she _knew_, having done so a time or two in the past. So family visits weren't always easy for her because it was often her nature to make trouble whenever it was a bad idea to make trouble. Those other things though—having a friend, having a lover, and all the myriad things those things entailed—those things had grown to be far more alien to her in recent millennia than she really liked to think about. She found she'd rather gotten used to it over the last few years though... She'd even gotten used to the humans, to living like one, to living among them, to... having someone...

Those were her paintings, her works, that her Fox (her _Foxy_ Fox now, apparently, if her absent eavesdropping was to be believed) was discussing with the gallery owners over at that table—_hers_. She'd made a name for herself with them, if only locally. She sighed and turned back to see the mortal woman she'd been watching gone. She looked to the right and saw her... a certain sagging in her shoulders that said much—many things that she knew intimately well. Impulsively, she hopped down from her perch and strolled off after her. Her quarry had a slow step to her, so there was no need to rush. In short enough order, she'd come up beside her. "Care for a bit of company on your walk, today?" She asked.

Startled, the fading mortal looked up and saw her. Wen knew she would seem to all the world, and the woman before her specifically, like a fresh faced twenty-something—full of life and youth and promise. "And what would a young thing like you want to do with an old woman like me?" The woman asked.

"Only that I noticed you looking unhappy... In ways I have once known as well as one such as I may. Worse by far than yours in some ways, perhaps? Could I guess? What are a mortal's woes in an endless sea, after all? Little or much? A flicker forgotten once done, or a wayfarer that drags them about behind them when cast upon the greater ocean? In either case... I thought you might just do with someone to talk with just now?" She asked, because it was true. "I offer myself to the task." She'd been alone and bitter, hot-tempered and scheming more than any mortal ever could be. She'd been saved from all that though—as though woken from a long nightmare with a kiss... A kiss from a faerie princess, no less.

"Oh, do you really now?" The woman asked. Really, all the pretentious attempts at poetry this girl was spouting? She'd heard it all before. She'd missed it, honestly—but it would probably hurt more than help, by this point, to have a round of conversation with a spirited youth and then walk away. She'd just end up back home in an empty place, nothing to look forward to that amounted to much. Being old and alone was a curse. She should have died young, she considered—doing something memorable.

"You ask me if I lie?" Wen questioned, amused. It was more of a fair accusation than the woman could _possibly_ guess. For _oh_ the many lies and winding little tales she'd told over the years, and oh how many she'd hurt by them for her own misery's sake... Thankfully, she was trying to be a much better sort of lady these days though, was she not? Selfishly perhaps—if acting as she did all for the love of a charming lass could rightfully be called so—which, aye, perhaps it may well be thus.

The woman shook her head. "Never you mind _what_ I ask... Just leave me be, will you? I've no use for talking today."

Wen considered that. "What would you have a use for then?"

"A chance to live my life all over again?" She told her sarcastically.

Wen smiled. "Easily enough done."

The woman paused and looked at her and saw something fae in her eyes. "Lord preserve me..." She whispered.

"None of that now. You asked a favor of me. You can't very well take it back _now_, can you?" Wen asked playfully.

"Take... what back, exactly?" The woman asked, wary. Either something was very wrong here, or she'd finally gone senile. Oh, and wouldn't that just be a right fitting thing if it were so?

Wen spoke, soft and resonant, and the air and magic danced for her. "_Oh, lady sad, oh, lady mad—your life you regret, so upon my favor, let your body simply... forget._" She cast the spell, twirling the woman around in a circle by one hand as though they were having a waltz. At the start, the woman was as she had been, but by the end, the two of them looked of an age.

The recipient of her generosity of spirit looked dazed, looking down at herself and at her in wonderment.

Wen regarded her work and smiled. "I do fine work, I think." She looked off towards her Foxy Fox, whom she was even still splitting her attention to listen in on from afar in a slightly out of time sort of way, and who was just now getting up from her meeting, giving Hamilton and Olivia hugs goodbye. She sometimes liked watching her love from afar as she'd been, found it fascinating and a little enthralling, but it was only ever enough for her for a time. She always tired of it and wanted to be with her, rather than only the watching of her. So it was now that she suddenly found herself very much wanting to go to her Fox and kiss her, to take her home and be about merrily coupling with her again for a while—it was a thirst that seemed to be ever with her these days, to her delight. They had planned to go clothes shopping after this, but she felt confident in her chances of talking her lover out of that, in favor of _other_ tongue-related activities. She turned back to the woman she'd just now enchanted. "Enjoy your youth, and think of me fondly, lady fair." She smiled, turning and walking away back towards where she'd come from, already daydreaming about slowly undressing her lover. Her Fox made a game of that sometimes, buying clothing with complicated little ties and clasps, because she knew it excited and fascinated her.

"Wait..." The woman called a little feebly after her a moment later.

Wen didn't though. A man was looking at her, and she noticed a few others nearby were too. She hadn't exactly been discrete. She sighed. "_Mortals about, who witnessed me, forget your troubled sight, and let me be..._" She waved her hand absently, causing all but the woman she'd made young again to forget what they'd seen. She didn't need word getting out that she was a djinn free of her magic lamp or some such nonsense. She wanted to be famous for her paintings, not as some silly messiah, or, more likely, she considered with a smirk, some wicked, trifling _devil_.

"Oy, wait up, will you—please?" The woman asked, jogging up to walk with her.

"Yes?" Wen asked, stopping and turning back to her, feeling excitement again, because the game wasn't over yet, apparently. She _was_ conflicted though, images of delicate little knots for her to untie to gain her lady's splendor still dancing about her head.

"Who are you?" The woman asked as she came to a stop her.

"Lowenna." Wen replied, eyes alight. "It's a Scottish name. It means _joyful_, I'll have you know." She explained. "Why? Who are you?" She asked, enjoying the game again. She did love leaving the mortals tongue tied. It was very fun. Besides, the waiting of just a little while longer to have her lover to herself would only make it all the sweeter. That was the kind of mood she was in—high on living life, and wanting to play a bit before she let her passions out. Maybe she'd go shopping with her Foxy Fox after all? She was in the mood to play dress-up with her suddenly. Something with bows and ribbons maybe...?

"I... I'm Candice. Candice Hastings. I used to be a professor of folklore at Oxford, once upon a time... Are you a faerie then?" She asked, rather boldly, her eyes stunned and struck with a wonder.

Wen laughed. "Some would say so, though _far_ more have known me by another name. Far more know me well, as_ the Banshee_." She turned a wicked, teasing smile on her new friend, making her eyes glow a pale bright white and letting a little of the fae she truly was show through, if only for this one woman's eyes to see.

Candice Hastings gasped. "...A Banshee? For truly?"

"Not _A_ anything, my lovely lass." She stroked the woman's cheek in a fond caress. "_The_, as in, the only one who ever was nor ever will be, I should have you know." She answered, pretending to be annoyed and flirtatious because it was fun to. Also, a proper mortal lady was expected to have her vanities on occasion, wasn't she? Or was that considered partly anachronistic this late in the decade? It was hard to keep track. Sometimes it seemed to her the human mortals had been wrought upon the sage only yet recently, whereas other times, it seemed as though they'd always been about, working their trifles and mischiefs wherever they went.

"...I'm sorry. I didn't mean offense." Candice answered nervously, as Wen moved in closer, her eyes unsettlingly alive and intimate, though they no longer glowed.

"Well, no, of course you wouldn't have, would you? What do you take me for, a lackwit?" She continued the tease in a soft, fond voice.

"No! Of course... You're having me on, aren't you?" Candice realized.

Wen smiled, joyful as her namesake. "Only a little." She confessed, stepping back a bit to give the woman a little more space. "But come now, I've solved your problem, have I not—and given you a slew of more delightful problems to take their place? What more could you want of me? A pretty hat? Would you like a pretty hat? With a bow?"

Candice blinked, and then started giggling. "Um, no... No hat necessary. I, um, I suppose I've always been more inquisitive than was good for me. I mean to say, here I am... a woman who's—who's spent her life studying myth and folklore and, quite aside from the miracle you've worked on me, which I should... I should be thanking you for, shouldn't I? Well, I just, I want to talk with you! If you'll, I mean... if you'd be amenable?"

Wen considered that. Candice was a bold one, and she had a lost and hollowed-out quality that spoke to her, that made her want to offer healing. More, she... had the feeling Candice might make a good friend. Her Foxy Fox was almost always the one who made friends for them, she did want to contribute more to that than she was. Her Fox would be proud of her for this, she considered, smiling. "Very well. I think I'd enjoy that."

"You would? Truly?" Candice asked, feeling joyful herself. She'd been alone—all her friends dead or no longer friends, and no family left she'd care to speak to either. After her retirement, she'd simply let herself... fade away, hadn't she? Lost the _life _in her life. She hardly knew what to make of what had just become of her, but she wasn't about to look at a gift like this too closely. She knew all too well what many of the stories said happened to those who messed about with magical beings... But then, up until this very hour, she hadn't ever thought magic could be _real_, let alone that she might chance on such a woman as she had while simply walking about town.

What good was a second chance at life to her if she didn't do what she hadn't the first time?

What use would it be at all, if she didn't let herself take a chance?

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	22. A Man Walks Into A Bookshop

**Brave... Part 22: A Man Walks Into A Bookshop...**

* * *

Some several hours later, the sun about to set, Candice Hastings looked up from her walking and saw the sign for the bookstore she'd followed her new... her new friends to. "_Into The Mystic_?" She asked with a smile. What wonders could be found inside?

"We can't take credit for the name. Rather, we... inherited the place." Wen explained.

"From whom?" Candice asked curiously.

"Now _that_ would be telling." Fox teased. Except, it wasn't only a tease. She liked Wen's new friend, she did, but telling people about the existence of Gargoyles wasn't something she _ever_ did, or ever would do. Telling a human that she and Wen were fae was one thing—after all, what could a mortal, any mortal, do about it if they took a dislike? Precious little, and only that if the fae in question acted foolishly and the mortals in question were wise, crafty, and knew of their weaknesses. Even bound as she was by her mother's enchantment, she had little to fear from any mortal. Gargoyles were another matter entirely.

Candice sighed. "More evasiveness and mystery. She's very talented at that, isn't she?" She asked Wen as Wen held the door open for Fox and for her.

"Oh my yes. I'm very satisfied with her talented tongue. Very satisfied, and more satisfied than that." Wen commented in an almost lyrical way. She was in such a fine mood today, because today had turned out to be a very fine day. Her work would be shown prominently at the upcoming exhibition, she'd made a friend that she had the sense might be a lasting one, and she was very soon to be about merrily cavorting with her lady love once again. Love, friendship... it was a bitter thing to think that she'd let those things be taken from her for so much of her life, but a joyous one to know that such a fate may never be hers again. She promised herself to be ever vigilant that it would be so.

Candice blushed. She'd spent the afternoon shopping with these two, and had dinner at a bistro with them following. In a lot of ways, they were as normal seeming as could be. They talked of normal things and did normal things, and they lived above a book shop that they owned. They both had more quickness of wit than any hundred university students she'd ever met combined of course, especially when they talked to each other, but they seemed to be genuinely nice people, living an ordinary life. It made her wonder how many other supposedly mythical beings were just... walking down streets like anybody else? It was a wondrous, incredulous thought to her. "I'll choose not to read too much into that, thank you." She answered.

"You're welcome, and welcome to the bed in our guest room as well, as promised." Wen snatched the hat from Candice's head she'd insisted on buying for her, kissed the pink bow on it lightly, then sat it down on the back of a chair as Candice proceeded to wonder about the place.

"My thanks again for offering that, by the way." Candice replied. She couldn't have really gone back to live at her own place very easily after all. She'd lived in an assisted living complex. She'd mostly had her independence, but she'd needed help with the mundane household things, and hadn't had the money to hire in anyone. She didn't have that problem anymore, obviously, but, as Wen had said, she now had a slew of more delightful problems to contend with. When Fox had, quite practically, asked after her living arrangements, Candice had told them the truth and the two had offered her their guest room until she got on her feet again. Fox seemed like a very levelheaded and thoughtful sort, Candice considered. She liked them, both of them, and thought they made a nice couple... Which was something to get used to, because she'd never had any lesbian or gay friends before. Only a few students of hers had been that she'd noticed. She had no prejudices, but it _would_, she expected, still take a little time before her brain stopped doing a double-take when she saw or heard the two of them acting or speaking as couples did.

"I was glad to." Fox answered easily.

A woman came out from the back of the shop, dusty blonde short hair and bland clothing. "Oh, hey you two." Shelley Brighton greeted them, her eyes falling on Candice and sweeping her body with a subtle appraisal that Candice easily understood to mean she was being ogled slightly. She wasn't quite sure what to think about that. "Who's this then?" Shelley asked.

"Her name's Candice." Wen supplied, hopping up to perch on the cashier's counter. "She'd my friend now. Aren't you proud of me, dear one?" She asked Shelley.

Shelley laughed. "Who could say no to a question like that?"

"Someone foolish?" Wen questioned, all feigned curious innocence.

Fox sighed. "Stop trying to frighten our shopkeeper, Wen. I've told you before."

Wen laughed and kissed Shelley's forehead. "I'd never harm a hair on her head, and she knows it to be true."

Shelley flushed a little. "I don't mind, really."

"She likes my play, otherwise how else could she call this her home?"

"You live here as well?" Candice asked Shelley, curious.

"Mm-hmm, for years now." Shelley supplied, coming around the corner and accepting a quick hug from Fox in greeting as she did. She'd been living on the streets, or squatting in an unused basement nearby actually, and had come into this shop to pass time, never buying anything. Fox and Wen had taken her in, had her help out Mark around the shop. When Mark had gone off to Wales with that lady of his, she'd taken his place and become a proper shopkeeper.

"We've plenty enough room, you'll see we do." Wen added.

"We've offered Candice the guest room for the time being." Fox explained.

"Oh, wow, that's brilliant." She said, because Candice was very fit looking and had a nice smile. "I mean, it's, um, it's nice to meet you, Candice. I'm Shelley Brighten." Shelly introduced herself, offering her hand to shake.

Candice smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Shelley."

* * *

It was late in the evening, and Candice had stayed up talking with Shelley while Wen and Fox had gone upstairs to... Candice assumed, do what couples did when they went upstairs. She'd seen the guest room she'd have while she was here, and it was very nice. She'd also explained to Shelley, when asked, that she was, disappointingly for Shelley, firmly heterosexual. Still, the girl had taken it well, bless her. Shelley was a sweet girl, and very easy to talk with. She knew the shop's inventory impressively well, and had a mind as bright as most any of her students' had ever been. It was such a complete breath of fresh air to be talking with her like this, truly it was.

"So... The Christian old testament. The flood, the Tower of Babel, the parting of the Red Sea...?" Candice was looking at a book in her lap—staring at it, really. She looked up to meet Shelley's eyes.

"Some of it actually did happen, they say, yes. It's the same with a lot of the great myths and religions of the world. The Tower of Babel, for instance. Fox told me... that was her mother's doing." Shelley explained.

"Her... mother?" Candice questioned. Who _was_ Fox's mother? The book in her lap was titled _La Gente Apática de las Neblinas_ (roughly translated: _The Uncaring People of the Mists_), and it was written by a 13th century Spanish land owner's third son (happily, Candice could speak and read Spanish fluently). According to the book, he'd had a love of history, and met a woman who'd taken him to bed and taken him to see the world. She had answered any question he'd asked of her, only to leave him right back where he'd started when she'd tired of him. He'd written the book, but very few copies had ever been printed. Shelley didn't know what had become of him after he'd written what he had. Candice rather hoped he'd found a fair Spanish lady who'd captured his heart anew, and they'd had a family and lived happily ever on. She somehow doubted it though.

"Titania, yes." Shelley supplied. "From what I gather, much of human history is like that. The fae do things, but don't explain very much, so people make up things. Sometimes they just flat out make up things too, of course. I mean, do you realize just how many works of fiction are being published today in the world? It must be a _staggering_ number. But, when I ask Wen about any of it, all she'll usually say is _All stories are true_. Fox explained that that's a common saying for their people. I... think it means something like... everything that happened, happened, and a person writing a book or telling a story is as real as any other happening. It's an expression, like art. Fox won't tell me if I'm right or not though. She might not even know. I've tried to think of different explanations. One of the more fanciful ones I like is that, just maybe, our souls have more power than any of us know and that, somehow, just the act of creating a story will create that world and those people on some other plane of existence? It makes me a little scared to write anything, to tell you the truth."

Candice's eyes widened a little at the thought and she laughed. "That's a bit of a head trip all right."

"I know, isn't it?" Shelly laughed too. "It's pretty unlikely it's actually true though, right?" She offered.

"I'd certainly think so..." Candice pondered. "For one thing, all those people in the worlds you'd have created would then likely imagine other stories, and it would carry on over and over again onto infinity that way. Not that the idea of infinities existing is a new one, of course." She mused. "So um, can I ask? How... old are they? Fox and Wen, I mean." She asked, still processing the fact that she'd just had dinner at a bistro with a banshee—_the_ Banshee—and the daughter of Queen Titania from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.

"Oh, Fox is about as old as she looks. She's in her 30s somewhere, I don't know exactly. Wen is... Well, apparently she's been alive since before there was even a human race, for at least several _hundred-thousands_ of years. _Apparently_, the human race was created by one of her _brothers_." Shelley explained in a rather conspiratorial tone.

Candice felt dazed. "Dare I ask... which one?"

"Odin." Shelley told her gravely. "...Or, as he was once known: Oduduwa."

"...Well then... It's a rather good thing I'm sitting down at the moment, isn't it?" Candice replied, now quite officially feeling dazed. Oduduwa—she recognized the name. From Yoruba mythology. Oduduwa, son of Olorun, the sky god. Olorun... another name for Oberon?

"I _know_, talk about head trips, yeah?" Shelley offered. "I kind of... well, sometimes I want to think Wen's having me on about some of the things she tells me, but... the troubling thing is, I really don't think she's doing that about these things."

Candice was silent a moment.

"Care for some tea?" Shelley asked. "I know I could do with a cup."

"Please, yes." Candice agreed, watching after the girl as she got to her feet and went to fetch the tea. Candice looked down at the book in her lap, open to a page where the author described a land of endless trees, and a people who told him a convincingly passable rendition of _Sosondowah and the Legend of Gendenwitha_, a prominent myth among the Iroquois people of North America. It was a story that a 13th century Spanish land owner's son, without question, had no business at all knowing.

The ring of the bell above the shop's front door startled her into sitting up fully quickly enough that the book she'd been reading fell to the floor in a clatter.

She looked towards the counter area, and Shelley poked her head out of the private nook where she'd been making the tea. "A customer?" Candice questioned.

"We are open all night." Shelley answered with a smile, emerging from behind the counter to go check to see who might be at the door. Not that customers this late in the evening were so very common, but it happened from time to time. The night hours were a holdover from the shop's previous owners, though they'd expanded into the evening hours to a degree now too, since coming under new ownership.

Candice eyed a hefty piece of statuary on a nearby table and wanted to pick it up so she could defend herself or Shelley if needed. The man who walked in had her quickly forgetting such concerns though. _My..._ She looked him up and down, _He surely is handsome, isn't he...?_

"Welcome." Shelley greeted him, cheerful and unconcerned. Wen had cast a spell about her that made her immune to nearly any sort of physical harm and would alert Wen herself if anyone ever tried, so she really didn't have much to worry about from their patrons. "Is this your first time visiting our shop?" She asked.

"...No, I'm afraid it's not." The man said, taking his striking eyes from Candice, where they'd originally landed, and meeting Shelley's regard. "One of the proprietors and I, we have something of a history. I wonder, would the lady Fox be in residence this evening perchance?"

"...She is." Shelley answered, a little wary of him suddenly. "Who can I tell her is calling?"

"His name is Macbeth mac Findlaech." Fox spoke up.

Candice turned and saw her there, leaning against the wall at the stairway's landing, Wen next to her. Fox looked unconcerned, but wary. Wen just looked... annoyed. And, holy hell, who Fox just named this man as just hit her and Candice turned back and stared at him, openly gawking. He _looked_ like he really could be... him... The look in his eyes, she realized, it wasn't all that unlike the look Wen got every now and then: older than old age.

"Why are you here, old king of mortals that were?" Wen asked, sounding impatient.

Candice gulped.

Macbeth looked to Fox then. "And old... _friend_ of ours—I think she may well be in danger. Though I doubt she realizes yet just how much."

* * *

End Episode 1, to be continued in Episode 2: _Daylight_  
See you there...


	23. Going Home

**Daylight... Part 1: Going Home**

* * *

In the parking garage beneath Elisa Maza's apartment complex, Elisa unlocked the passenger side door of her car, holding it open for Dominique Destine to get in. Dominique rewarded her with a soft smile for the courtesy, and Elisa couldn't help but smile back as she closed the door for her. Walking down the stairs together, they'd slipped off into a not entirely comfortable silence, so the smile had been a relief. Elisa still didn't feel right about this, about leaving Dominique to handle this alone, despite that (or even maybe partly because) she was probably more than capable. On her way around to the driver's side, she found herself looking around. There were a lot of shadowy corners, she was considering. She paused before opening the car door, thinking the worry that had been building inside of her through. That theoretical second team of Xanatos's mercenaries likely hadn't followed them here last night, otherwise they probably would have tried to break in, sedate Dominique while she she'd slept, and make off with her, Elisa none the wiser until morning. They'd already have been geared up for stealth and for breaking and entering. That would have been the smart thing to do—_if_ they'd known. So that left...

"Elisa, what are you thinking?" Dominique asked. She'd kept quiet long enough, she told herself.

Elisa looked over to her and their eyes met. "I'm worried." She admitted. "I mean, I think we can safely assume Xanatos doesn't know where you are now—either that or he's wary of involving the police in this any more than he already has... but assuming he _doesn't_ know where you are and that he's brazen or desperate enough not to _care_ that you're in the company of a police detective, then what's to say he won't have people watching your home, ready to attack us the moment we show up? A sniper maybe, and some bag men in a van?" She questioned. "I mean, if what you said last night's true, he's got more skin in this now than ever, because he'll be expecting you to retaliate. If he thinks his _life's _in danger, how far do you think he'd go?"

Dominique sighed. "I'm not entirely certain, but, good sense would have to have me assume there would be few limits." She had to concede her the point.

"Well, then, maybe you shouldn't go home right now? Is there somewhere else you'd be safer?" Elisa asked, sitting down in the car next to her.

Dominique shook her head. "Nowhere more than my home. Trust me on this, Elisa—a sniper would not be effective within its perimeter." She closed her eyes, realizing something she hadn't before. Assuming David's mercenaries truly didn't know where she was (which, she agreed with Elisa that it was unlikely they did), then Elisa was correct—the mercenaries' only option would be to set up an ambush somewhere, like at the mansion, where they might reasonably predict she would seek safe haven. One of Una's spell books did contain a teleportation spell, but the spell could not be cast unless the caster held the book. Still, with the mansion's magical defenses and the teleportation spell, that gave her protection upon arrival and safe egress if needed—she would be safe once she arrived, but... "But... once you left, you would have no such protections."

"I..." Elisa realized she hadn't considered that. "But- Okay, yeah, that's true, but why would they want to target me? What would that get them?" She asked.

Dominique shook her head again. "There could be any number of reasons." She was forced to consider. "Kill you, and I have one less ally. Capture you, and you might tell them something useful of my plans, never mind that you actually know little enough that could help them. For all they know, you've been my ally for years and know much. For that matter, if either of us were to happen to give away any hint of a more intimate relationship while they watched us, say a parting kiss perhaps, then they might even attempt to use you as leverage."

Elisa thought a moment. A certain stubborn streak inside her wanted her to say that she was a cop and she could take care of herself, but against a team of trained mercenaries who'd have the initiative? She had to admit she wouldn't stand much of a chance. "I see your point."

What was more, Dominique thought, was that even if she refused to let Elisa drive her home, the danger still wouldn't be kept at bay. "You... need to come with me. Stay with me, until this is over." She concluded, dreading the very idea of it, even while having come to the inescapable conclusion that there would be no other option that she could let herself live with.

"I- Wait, why?" Elisa asked.

Dominique sighed. "One of my assailants got away, Elisa." She reminded her, all the while cursing herself for not having considered this sooner. "He'll know you aided me. If he doesn't know who you are by now, he will soon. Xanatos may be able to obtain your personnel file and the police reports on the incident as well—may even already have them. True, it's far from certain you'll be targeted in all of this, but I..." She met Elisa's eyes and made her decision. "I'm not willing to risk your life on the chance that you won't be."

Elisa looked away, considering that. She'd say the same thing in Dominique's place, she knew it. She let out a breath. "I still have to report in at the station today." She told her, turning to look at her again. "I can... I can request to use some vacation days—I've sure got enough of them I haven't used yet—but I've got to show up today. If nothing else, it'll look too suspicious if I don't, given you want to keep everything last night under the radar as much as possible." And Elisa agreed. She wasn't about to be the weak link that outed the existence of gargoyles to the world and risked having what few of them might be left hunted down and killed or _experimented _on. She wanted to believe it wouldn't happen, but she was nowhere near that naïve.

"That won't be a problem. I have a book at home with a teleportation spell in it." Dominique told her.

Elisa stared, shook her head a little and smiled. "Of course you do." She said.

Dominique chuckled.

Elisa smiled all over again. "Shall we get going then?" She asked.

"Oh, by all means." Dominique replied.

Elisa started the car, again wondering to herself just what the heck she'd gotten herself into with all of this. She was taking a lot on faith here, she knew she was, but she trusted Dominique, despite the sheer number of incredulous things she was being asked to accept for fact. Her burgeoning personal feelings for her aside, Dominique was a champion and advocate for so many people around the world who needed her to stay alive—needed her to keep fighting for them. How could she _not_ do everything in her power to keep her safe? And more than that, she considered as she backed the car up and shifted into gear, on that personal level, Dominique somehow felt like she was just hers to protect now. Maybe it was her unresolved feelings about Margot's death, maybe she felt responsible because she'd saved her once already, maybe it was the chemistry between her and Dominique (because they'd just conclusively proven that they sure had more than enough of that going for them), or maybe she was just plain curious to see what would happen next—maybe it was even all of thee above. Whatever it was, she was doing this. And, it was... also true that, however she looked at it, Dominique was right—if she didn't go with her, take advantage of her protection, she could easily end up dead, and... despite that she might have thought that wouldn't be such a bad thing to be a few times after Margot's death, she didn't want to die—certainly not without finding out where things might end up going between her and the woman next to her.

Dominique started to give her directions to the mansion as they pulled out into traffic. Once that was done, silence overcome them again though. Dominique, for her part, was trying not to let her paranoia occupy her thoughts too much... but she just couldn't help but consider how neat this all almost seemed to be. She told herself again that Elisa had proven herself to her in any number of ways, and that Elisa was simply too... genuine an individual for a deception of that kind of magnitude to be at all believable, but, by the same token, she couldn't escape noticing that, here she was, bringing Elisa home with her, taking her into her confidence enough to introduce her to her clan—because there would be no way to avoid that as things were going, would there? She'd never even let a human onto the mansion grounds before, at least certainly not... socially—certainly David had never been extended an invitation. She'd had workers in to prepare the place before moving her clan in, of course, but she'd watched them carefully and vetted them thoroughly beforehand, and Griff, Vercinix, Obsidiana, and Leo had all learned various relevant trades so they could handle further upgrades and renovations themselves. Oh, there were some occasional scheduled deliveries, a few necessary visits by city works personnel, but the humans in those instances had been carefully monitored and vetted, and never allowed to see anything she wouldn't wish seen or stay longer than they needed to stay. How long would it be before Elisa learned what David wanted to know? She'd already given Elisa more clues to that than she had him in all the time they'd known each other. She tried to banish the thoughts, remember that Elisa had earned better from her than to be doubted this way, but... Well, she really would have preferred it if she could have had the time to resolve this matter with David before taking steps like this. On a personal level, she would have liked this to go differently as well—she wanted to court her properly, go on dates—not get to know her while they were both under threat. And how would her clan react to this? There was _another_ thing she would have really liked to have had more time to manage properly. She thought of the betrayal she was sure to see in Obsidiana's eyes when her clanmate realized just what it was that had motivated Dominique to give Elisa this kind of trust... It hurt her to even imagine—it actually felt physically painful. How much worse would it be when it really happened? When she was actually confronted with the look of hurt and betrayal in her former lover's eyes? She thought again of all the mistakes she'd made, how very badly she'd _failed_ Obsidiana when they'd been together...

"What's wrong?" Elisa asked her then, seeing just... anguish in the Dominique's manner.

Dominique, surprised, turned to regard the woman next to her as they slowed to a stop at an intersection. Dominique gave her a little of a smile then. "You really are very observant, aren't you...?" She mused, liking that about her, despite that she really very much did not want to talk about this topic at the moment. She sighed. There wasn't much else for it though, was there? And it would undoubtedly be worse if she said nothing... "We... haven't discussed this Elisa, but I am not the last of my kind. There are few of us left, true, but... Some of those that are left, we've come together as a clan, here, in Manhattan. I am their leader." She confessed.

Elisa shook her head in wonder. "You just keep on surprising me, you know that?" She offered, smiling unguardedly. "I'm glad, you know, that you haven't been alone... Do they live with you?"

Dominique smiled, cheered somewhat by Elisa's open, inquisitive empathy. "Yes." She said. "That's... actually the problem." She admitted.

Elisa had to shift into drive again as the light turned green. "They won't trust me, you mean?" She asked.

"Well, no, or, yes, some of them, perhaps all, will not be at all swift to trust, that's true, but it's not what I meant..." She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, feeling a little of a headache coming on. _Cognitive dissonance_ the humans called it, she recalled from some of her readings: When you thought too many difficult and contradictory things at once. In the worst cases, the stress of it could manifest as physical pain—a headache.

"What then?" Elisa asked, uneasy but not wanting to cause Dominique any more discomfort over... whatever this was about.

"I believe humans would call it... having and ex?" She ventured.

Elisa's eyes widened in surprise, and she had to willfully tell herself not to laugh. "An ex, huh? I... take it, it didn't end well then? And you still live together, because you're in the same clan?"

"Yes, we do, and I- As to... It's hard to explain." She admitted.

"Her fault or yours, would you say?" Elisa asked gently, making a right turn. Another intersection was coming up.

"Mine, beyond any doubts." She admitted.

"Oh... What'd you do that was so bad, then?" Elisa asked, wanting to give Dominique the benefit of the doubt, but dreading the answer a little anyway.

"We..." Dominique started as Elisa stopped at the red light. "She pursued me, I accepted. We were friends, we never argued, I loved her—I still do, so much—but I... we just, couldn't connect. Not... I wasn't a good match for her. I thought I could be, _I wanted_ to be, but I was wrong. I can... be impulsive, and my life seemed so good for once, so hopeful, I... I'm... I have a very long history of doing foolish things where my heart is concerned, or, at least... not doing wise ones. I broke the relationship off, but... She has yet to forgive me for it, I think. We don't talk, not the way we used to in any case. Each of have often tried to bridge the gap, but... it never seems to work. We're... broken in some fashion, you understand?" She asked.

"I think I'm starting to, yeah..." Elisa replied as she pulled forward again when the light changed. It was uncomfortably like what she'd done with Becca, if she were honest with herself. She hadn't been... in the right place for a relationship at the time. Becca didn't let on about it, she never did, but Elisa often wondered how much she might have hurt her by what she'd done... At least they'd been able to remain friends—good friends. How would it have felt if that hadn't been how it had turned out? She'd... probably be beating herself up inside over it—like Dominique was now, actually. "And you're worried that she, in particular, won't take... _me_ very well?"

Dominique sighed. "I really should know better the answer to that by now, shouldn't I?" She admitted, feeling like even more of a failure for it.

"You don't though?" Elisa asked.

"She... You have to understand: Me, her, all of my clan, none of us save the children are without horror stories in our pasts where the humans are concerned. Of all of us though, with the... possible exception of myself... She has had the worst experiences. If she does take a dislike to you, it could be more that than anything else. But I... As I said, I really don't know _how_ she will react to this. She's a very private person in many ways. She does not share her pain or her heart easily. That is what makes my crime against her as great as it is. She has... She has a beautiful heart, a bright soul that has been unfairly burdened by this world, and, to my shame, I fear, by my own hand in her life as well. I only wish..." But she fell silent, unable to go on.

"That you could have been the person that she needed?" Elisa finished.

"Or that I had not been so foolish as to think to have tried to be in the first place, yes." She admitted, looking up at the sunlit sky between the buildings ahead of them. "Looking back on it, I recognize that I should have known better. I suppose I thought that, in sharing our pain, we could heal one another. I have seen it happen with others of my clan—seen sorrows become joy before my very eyes—but... I suppose that it doesn't always work that way, does it?"

Elisa thought of her own attempts at attending grief support groups, and how badly that had turned out. "No. It would be nice if it did, but I guess it really doesn't, does it?" She answered.

Dominique heard the empathy in Elisa's words and wanted to ask her about it, but thought better of it. The upcoming introductions would be trying enough for all concerned, Elisa included, that she didn't want her new love interest to have to go into them with painful memories freshly dredged up. She smiled a little to herself, in acceptance and regret. "It's a shame though. I think you and she might be good friends, if given a fair chance." She offered, again looking down at her bracelet and thinking about what to do. Would it help matters to offer that? She knew it would work, having carried out an experiment many years ago. It had been an ill-fated, tragic thing, but she _had_ learned what she'd wanted to know. After all this time, she considered, it would be good to have something positive come from that, wouldn't it? Yet, still... It was no small thing to contemplate.

"Well, maybe we will be one day. Who knows?" Elisa offered, more feeling sorry for Dominique and... "What's her name, by the way? Or, does she have one?" She asked, recalling what Dominique had said before about gargoyles not traditionally having them.

Dominique smiled a little wistfully to herself. "She does. We all do, by now, as far as I'm aware." She couldn't be sure, she kept telling herself. If clans had survived in Guatemala and Britain, then others might yet be out there somewhere, hidden away. She wished dearly she had a way to better search for them besides researching local legends and taking business trips to promising locals when she had the time, but, alas, it wasn't a quest she could entrust to others. "Her name is Obsidiana." Dominique offered. "The other adults of my clan are Una, Leo, Vercinix, and Griff. We have several children you'll get to meet as well. They're names are Lunette, Carwyn, Pegasus, Arista, and Kyan. And, of course, I already told you about Aslan... Lunette gave him the name. When you meet her father, I think you might guess why." She smiled fondly, remembering the day Lunette had bestowed the name. Dominique had started to read _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ for herself that night. She didn't often read or otherwise indulge in the humans' works of fiction... Robyn had taken to coaxing her out to watch plays, musicals, or other such performances with her on occasion though. Thinking of Robyn, she reminded herself that she really did need to call her to check in once they arrived home. She was without her cellular phone and a company alert was still in effect. Robyn would be worried about her, she realized with some guilt.

"Tell me about them?" Elisa asked.

Dominique thought about that a moment as they picked up speed again after a turn. "Some of the children might be a little in awe of you, I think, especially once I tell them the story of how we _met_... All but the youngest of them have been out in the human world of course, it's only..." She sighed, suddenly wondering about the wisdom of introducing a human to them and telling them that they could _trust_ her. What kind of precedent would that set in their minds? Would it lead them to more easily drop their guard when other humans presented themselves in a favorable light? Elisa might be an exception, but Dominique wasn't under any delusions that an exception meant that many more humans would likely be trustworthy where their race was concerned, or that her clan's children would be fortunate enough to happen upon those few of them that were if they went looking one day. And that was but _one_ concern. What other havoc was the decision she was making now likely to wreak as time went on? "Una is my best friend." She told Elisa fondly, deciding to simply move on for now. "She reads any book she can get her hands on, has a sharp wit, and will likely despise you the moment she lays eyes on you."

Elisa looked over to her momentarily in alarm before looking back to the road. "Despise is kind of a strong word." Elisa offered, hoping this whole _meet the family_ thing wasn't going to be as bad as she was rapidly getting the impression it would be.

"Perhaps so, but she- I think she _will_ give you an opportunity to earn her trust. My word, and the story of our meeting may do much to help in that, but... As I said, we all have our horror stories. Una, Leo, and Griff were born to a clan in Britain. In their youth, hunters—_humans_—massacred the entirety of their clan but for them. Scars such as those do not heal easily—do not entirely heal at all, I should rightly say..." She mused.

"No, I... I wouldn't imagine they would." Elisa replied. She should know that well enough. She'd seen scars like that before in people—even in her parents. Her father, her father's tribe, she could still see the bitterness and wounded pride they all had from what the colonials had done to their ancestors so long ago—what American society continued to do to them to this day, in many ways. Her mother too, still had echoes of that same sort of bitter pride in her, dating back to Nigeria's history of being a target for the slave trade and having been subject to British occupation for so many years. She'd seen something like it so many times on the faces of the people she encountered as a police detective too. A murder victim's loved ones, in the eyes of a rape victim, on the face of someone beaten nearly to death because they were different... _Betrayal_, that's what it was—in the worst, most fundamental sort of way. Betrayal, disappointment, disillusionment... it had a unique way of making a person lonely, of robbing them of _trust_. It was probably the hardest thing there was in the world to forgive, or to move past. She'd felt a good measure of it herself, when Margot had died. There were nights she'd almost hated the entire world... "I'm not going to have an easy time of this at all, am I?" She asked softly.

"No... No, neither of us are, I fear." Dominique admitted.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	24. Just A Breath Away

**Daylight... Part 2: Just A Breath Away**

* * *

Opalia swung her leg over the motorcycle to dismount, looking around at the city and the sky and the humans milling all around them. "So many of you..." She spoke to herself under her breath. She'd known, intellectually, how vastly her kind were outnumbered by the humans. She'd been told. But, as she and Sophia had rode into the city and seen the human world rushing by, or standing still at traffic intersections, and as the density of population and the sizes and the closeness of the buildings had grown as they'd gotten nearer to their destination, the true scale of the juggernaut her people faced became steadily more clear, more menacing.

"Hey, Opal..." Sophia touched her lover's cheek and Opal looked up to meet her eyes. Her heart went out to her lover all over again as her eyes told the story of how overwhelmed and uncomfortable she was. Sophia had never trusted people easily—her own parents had made sure of that, and the few men and women she'd dated in her life had never done much to make her trust or believe in other people any more easily. She suspected at least part of that had been her own fault, the failures at dating, but Opal was... so different. Sophia trusted her with her heart—_loved_ her, so deeply is was frightening. So deeply that it had hurt more and more each day Opal remained a captive until she'd no longer been sure how much longer she could stand it until she did something stupid and tried to get her out, no matter her chances. Xanatos wouldn't have killed Opal, no matter what. He'd just have had _her_ killed. But, Sophia had always convinced herself, _then_ Opal wouldn't have had anyone on her side anymore, would she? She'd thought of making a run for it herself, trying to contact Dominique Destine... but she and the rest of the people at Xanadu lived there, and their communications were monitored and strictly limited. She herself had been monitored much closer than the others, she knew—for obvious reasons. If she'd tried, they would have either killed her before she got the message out, or moved Opal before Destine could act if she were successful in contacting her. But now Opal was here with her, free—they were _both_ free. "Talk to me? What's wrong?" She asked gently. "I know, it's got to be a lot." She offered, looking around a bit to indicate their surroundings.

Opal smiled just a little tremulously. "It is." She told her, meeting her eyes again. "But it's... It's good, too. It's really good. I'm here with you, I..."

Sophia moved forward to kiss her, not willing not to. It wasn't exactly a good idea, she knew. They'd draw attention. Lesbian couples weren't unusually so open with their affections. Indeed, someone gasped nearby and Sophia backed off. Sophia smiled a little crookedly at the slightly love-struck expression on Opal's face. "Sorry. That probably wasn't the best idea, out here where everyone can see." She apologized. It had just felt so good though, to hear Opal validate their relationship the way she had. They'd spent last night together in a vacation cabin they'd broken into for the night, and they'd made love with a wild abandon that had stolen her thoughts away until they'd woken hours later, but they hadn't... really talked much. She still wasn't entirely sure where she and Opal stood. If Opal genuinely wanted her. She thought she did, but... it wasn't easy to trust, even now.

"Why though?" Opal said, looking around and seeing some of the humans looking at them in unpleasant, unwelcoming ways. "Surely, showing affection while we court isn't so unusual, is it?" She asked, remembering then that humans didn't usually couple with those of the same gender. She had forgotten that, in the moment. "Oh, right. Humans don't usually court within their own gender, do they? ...Are we in danger?" She asked, looking around, now more wary than she had been even upon arrival.

Sophia shook her head. "I doubt it. Not in this part of town." She comforted her. Affluent people like these weren't likely to gay bash out here in the open like this. No, they just had _other_ sins that they preferred more, didn't they? "The... most we might get is some religious sort yelling at us that we're going to hell or something." She admitted, thankful that none of those had yet made themselves apparent. It meant they were probably largely in the clear.

"Hell?" Opal asked. "Where is that? Do humans banish those who do not conform to their social strictures to some other place in this part of the world? An... apartheid, perhaps? She'd been told about that once, in a place called South Africa. It was the closest matching concept she could bring to mind. It wasn't a very pleasant thing to think about either—that humans could do such things, even to their own kind.

Sophia laughed a little, feeling a bit nervous and unsettled too. "No, I, that is- No. Hell is..." She sighed. "It's not a real place, okay? Or, probably it's not anyway." She had to allow. Her parents had raised her Christian, Episcopalian more specifically, but she'd turned her back on that and considered herself at least agnostic, if not outright atheistic. It was hard to shake the heaven and hell stuff sometimes though, and she did kind of really want to believe there was something more out there, after you died. Reincarnation, or an afterlife of _some_ kind. She really _hoped_ it wasn't the garbage her parents had wanted her to swallow at any rate, because that... would be very bad for her if it was true. It _wasn't_ true though, she reminded herself again. "It's... It's like a superstition." She explained.

"Oh..." Opalia replied. "That's... like a story, yes? One humans think is true, but isn't?" She asked.

"Pretty much." Sophia admitted.

Opalia sighed. "Humans are confusing." She admitted. "And..." She looked around her at the people around them, passing them by, now largely ignoring them again. "Strange."

Sophia titled her head to the side, considering that. "Even me...?" She asked, hoping she wasn't so alien to her.

Opalia looked back to her, a little startled by the question. She gave it a moment's serious consideration though. Was she? "No..." She had to admit. "No, not you..." She told her softly, moving in to seek comfort in her lover's embrace. Sophia's arms encircling her felt so soothing, so right... All this time, Sophia had been true to her after all. She'd been letting that sink in more and more as they'd gotten further and further away from the hateful place she'd been confined to for so long. She hadn't lied, hadn't used her... Sophia _loved_ her. How was she going to deal with that? Because, she was coming to realize... she didn't want to be parted from her, not anymore. She wanted to see Sapphira again, that was still true. She loved Sapphira still, and that was also true, and she still wanted to go home more than anything, but... She had to admit to herself, Sapphira might think her dead. Would she have moved on? Chosen another of their clan sisters as her wife? ...but what if she hadn't though? What if Sapphira... still waited, _hoped_ for her return...? Wouldn't she be betraying that even now, if it were so? ...Or, worse... She hadn't been changed into a human with one of the bracelets that Dominique Destine had brought to them this time. What if one couldn't be used to change her back again? What if she were stuck as a human now? If that were so, then she and Sapphira could never be together again, regardless of what either of them might wish. At least, not unless and until the human sorcerer who'd changed her could be made to undo his wicked deed... It wasn't the first time she'd wondered about the possibility, of course. She'd long hoped he would change her back, even if it were for another of those experiments. She'd long fantasized that she would make the most of the opportunity, turn the tables on them, and finally escape somehow... She had escaped now though, because Sophia had taken her side and helped her, and she was still human.

"...I'm glad." Sophia finally said, just holding Opal in her arms, tears falling that she was grateful Opal couldn't see. If she hadn't been sure she'd give her _life_ for this woman before, she sure was now.

At length, and feeling more steady for having been held as she had been, Opalia moved back, out of her lover's arms. Surly, she'd been making even more of a scene in front of the humans. They needed to find shelter. She met Sophia's regard then and saw her lover wiping away tears from her eyes. She brought a hand up to her cheek in concern, but halted before touching her. "What's wrong?" She asked softly instead, letting her hand drop away.

Sophia smiled. "Just... happy, I guess." She told her honestly. "You're the first... I... It's just, I think... I'd do anything for you, you know?"

Opalia smiled an inquisitive, seeking sort of smile. She wasn't exactly sure what Sophia must be feeling right now, but she knew her own feelings well, and she... wasn't going to be a coward about them. She was going to speak her heart. "I... I love you too." She told her a little hesitantly.

"...Yeah?" Sophia asked, a little breathlessly, her heart beating faster in her chest.

"Yes." Opalia told her with new certainty. "...Now, I think we should go inside, don't you?" She asked with a little of a smile. She still wasn't at all sure how this was going to turn out, but she'd just made a decision, she thought. She wasn't going to play Sophia false. She was going to tell her everything in her heart once they were alone. She deserved that, if nothing else.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." Sophia admitted a little shyly. The look in Opal's eyes when she said _yes,_ that had been just... _really_ hot. So she got her key back from the bike and took Opal's hand, leading her into the hotel.

As they went in, Opalia couldn't help watching the humans milling around them with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Entering the hotel's reception area, she looked around, keeping watch as Sophia led them over to a counter. The clerk greeted them in English. Sophia had been paying attention and knew a few English words, but she didn't recognize nearly enough of what the clerk said to make sense of it. Sophia greeted him back in his language, and Opalia determined she'd ask Sophia to teach her more of the language if they had time. She hadn't before because she hadn't wanted to make it easier on her captors, and, later, also because she hadn't wanted them to see Sophia as no longer essential to them.

Getting their room keys from the clerk after paying cash for the room, Sophia switched back to Spanish for Opal's sake. "Our room's on the second floor, room 210." She explained, leading them over to the stairwell, not wanting to chance Sophia's reaction to an elevator. She was pretty sure the other woman had never encountered one before, and, while she might find it a curiosity or a wonder, it might also make her uneasy.

Looking around the stairwell, Opalia found they were alone, and, feeling a little giddy, with energy to burn from having been bathed in sunlight all morning long as they'd ridden here together, she impulsively swept Sophia up into her arms. Sophia squeaked and the look on her face made Opalia giggle. "I want to carry you." She told her.

Sophia laughed and wrapped her arms around Opal's shoulder, kissing her briefly. "Whatever you say." She told her indulgently, closing her eyes as Opal started to carry her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She relaxed and snuggled close, trusting her lover. Opal had carried her to bed like this a few times before too, back at Xanadu, during the day when she was strong enough to do so without any difficulty. She had to admit, it was definitely sexy. When Opal sat her gently back down on her feet once they were on the second floor landing, Sophia found herself gazing into her eyes, feeling hazy with wanting. Her arms were still around Opal's shoulders and Opal's hands were on her hips. Sophia backed her up against the wall. "I want you so much right now... I always want you. I don't ever seem to stop wanting to be with you..." She admitted in a seductive way, moving her lips so they were almost touching Opal's.

Opalia drew in a breath, her thoughts deserting her at the hungry look in Sophia's eyes. Opalia felt herself growl a little, a low sort of rumble that still felt wrong to her, not like the way she _should_ sound, but by this point she was used to the feeling, and it didn't give her pause like it had at first. "We should find the room first..." She reminded her. "And... you said you do need to move the motorcycle, because it's only allowed to be there for thirty minutes...?" She told her, just to tease her.

Sophia closed her eyes and groaned, but laughed. "When you're right, you're right." She admitted, backing off with regret. She could be patient. "Come on..." She told her with a playful smile as she took Opal's hand in hers, opened the door to the second floor hallway, and led her along with her to their room.

Opalia was smiling and she couldn't seem to stop. Sophia seemed so... different now—_unburdened_, she supposed. It only made her more beautiful.

When they got to the room, Sophia unlocked the door and held it open for Opal to enter. She watched as her lover walked in, following her. Opal looked around the neat hotel room, at the pictures on the wall, then to the bed, then to the view of the city.

"This is how humans live, then?" Opalia asked, still looking at the view.

Sophia came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. "Some of us, yeah. Others, not so much." She admitted. "Opal... I wanted to... no, never mind." She sighed. "That's a longer conversation. I need to go get our stuff and park the bike." She sighed. She'd packed the bike's saddlebags with some things they'd stolen from the cabin they'd stayed at last night. She and Opal were about the same height, and luckily there'd been some clothes there that had fit them both fairly closely. It would have been suspicious (or at least memorable), after all, if they'd checked into a place like this without any luggage at all. They were trying to keep a low profile, so they didn't want to be suspicious _or_ memorable... which, yeah, maybe kissing out on the street like they had before hadn't exactly done them any favors in that regard, she acknowledged to herself.

"But... when you get back though?" Opalia asked softly.

"We'll talk... or, you know, not talk. Whatever you want." She offered with a smile to herself.

Opalia turned in her arms and gazed into Sophia's eyes. "Both." She told her, giving her a soft, lingering kiss. "Definitely _both_."

* * *

When, some moments later, Sophia left to take care of her errand, Opalia wrapped her arms across her shoulders, missing her wings again as she walked over to the window and gazed out over a vista that still seemed so utterly alien to her. Nothing about this world felt right, nothing except the sun on her skin and Sophia... She moved closer to the window and reached out a hand to touch the glass, imagining that she could just open the balcony door, step out, and jump. She would glide on the wind off towards the horizon and find her way home.

Impossible, of course. Sophia had told her, even when they'd still been at Xanadu, where in the world they were: Manhattan, New York, in the United States. She would be a very long time indeed trying to find her way home by herself. Even if she were her true self again and she had her wings back, even if she didn't have the humans to worry about, even if there were no humans and Sophia was a gargoyle like her, she wasn't confident that she'd be able to find her way back.

She tried to remember Dominique Destine—what she's been like. She'd mostly blocked it out, she supposed... or, at least, she didn't like to think about that time in her life very much—what the humans had done, what Dominique Destine had saved them from.

And she'd done so much more than save them, hadn't she? She'd raised them up, bent the human world around them to her will and given them what they hadn't had in generations—safety. A home, a place where they could live, love, and raise their children without fear. To Opalia, though she had met her a few times, though she still remembered the feel of Dominique's hand in hers as she'd led her to safety—still remember her roar as she'd faced their enemies in her clan's defense—Dominique Destine was... She'd seemed almost larger than life... She remembered Dominique telling her: _You're safe now, just stay here. It'll all be over soon._

She'd lost count of the times during her captivity she'd wished to hear words like that again. And now, here she was. Sophia said that Dominique's clanhold was on the other side of the city. Opalia had asked why they didn't just go there directly... but she'd been told that, because of what was going on between Dominique and Sophia's former employer (and her former captor), David Xanatos, they had to be careful. Dominique's clan would be looking for threats, expecting an attack, and Opalia wasn't a gargoyle anymore.

She'd had to admit, that was true... Dominique might recognize her as a human, or Obsidiana definitely would, _if_ they got close enough to talk, but...

When Sophia got back, they'd talk, make a plan...

She opened the sliding glass door and walked out onto the balcony, luxuriating in the comfort of the sunlight and the wind in her hair. The wind was cool, but, with the sun so bright, she could stay warm if it were much colder still.

* * *

Sophia was thinking about what she could do to safely get Opal to Dominique Destine as she rode an elevator up from the parking garage. Stopping at the second floor, she walked down to the other side of the building where they'd come in before and where their room was. She was worried about so many things. She'd done the impossible, and gotten Opal out, but, still, what next? They were in the middle of, well, it had sounded like a war zone out there as they'd made their escape. She knew the Eyrie Building had been hit too, that that had been why Xanatos had been fleeing in the first place—and that had been right in the middle of the city. They couldn't count on either Xanatos or Destine to keep this lowkey. Whatever was going on, it was life and death and Sophia wasn't at all sure where they'd draw the line.

And then, on a selfish note, what happened after that? After Opal was safe, after she could go home, back to Guatemala... Opal hadn't talked about it much, but Sophia knew... Opal had had someone—before this had all happened, before this had been _done_ to her, she'd had someone...

Even if that wasn't the case though, how could they be together? _I love you too_... Opal had said the words, but... how much did that really mean? As a gargoyle, she and Opal... they couldn't be together, not as lovers. It would be impossible. Sophia had thought she'd be alright with that, thought she owed it to Opal and that she'd be willing to make the sacrifice, but now... Now she'd be lying if she said she wasn't tempted to... She didn't know, work this somehow? Was there even a way to? To make it so she... could keep Opal for herself somehow?

She felt guilty thinking about it, but... She was feeling kind of desperate enough that she wasn't completely sure she cared. She wasn't a good person, she reminded herself. She might have been once, but good people didn't do the kinds of things she'd done in her life.

She looked up and saw the door to their room. She took a deep breath and sighed.

She didn't have to make up her mind right now, she told herself. They... still had time.

She unlocked and opened the door, hearing the shower running. She smiled to herself, setting down their things, then locking the door behind her and stripping out of her clothes.

No, she promised herself again as she looked at the door to the bathroom. No, she'd keep the promise she'd made to Opal, she told herself stubbornly. She'd be a good person for her. She owed her that... and more, Opal made her _want_ to be that for her too... To be her knight in shining armor again, maybe?

It was a silly thought, but, well, there was truth to it anyway.

As she entered the bathroom and got under the hot water with Opal, as Opal greeted her with a kiss and wrapped her in her arms though, she just hoped she'd be able to stay true to her word and her convictions when the time came.

She just hoped, when the time came... she'd be able to give Opal up.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	25. A Kiss Freely Given

**Daylight... Part 3: A Kiss Freely Given**

* * *

Meanwhile, across town, Elisa pulled her car in to park on the street beside an honest-to-goodness mansion, one that took up an entire city block. A high wall surrounded the grounds, but Elisa could see trees over the wall. She turned to look over to Dominique in the passenger seat beside her, still worried that they might be attacked. "You're sure we're safe?" She asked.

Dominique met Elisa's eyes again and smiled reassuringly. "Quite sure." She answered. "Listen, Elisa... I, that is, I've been thinking about something." She admitted, gazing over at the mansion's gate as she spoke.

"Sounds serious." Elisa commented, wondering what it was.

"It is, I... I've never really offered this to anyone before, to a human I mean... I've considered it as an option in the past, but always concluded it to be too much of a chance to take. For my people. I've worked very hard to give us room and what security I can. It's much to put to trust..." She began, looking back to Elisa again. "Please, Elisa. Tell me I'm not making a mistake trusting you?"

"You... You aren't, Dominique. I promise." Elisa told her, covering one of Dominique's hands with one of hers, even more curious what this could be about.

Dominique looked down at their joined hands, at the bracelet on her own wrist that she saw there, and took a purposeful breath. She brought her hand up, Elisa's falling away as she did, a questioning look appearing on Elisa's face. "This bracelet, you... saw what it can do?" She asked.

"It's how you became human, right?" Elisa asked.

"Right... It was a gift, from Titania. I suppose it gives the one who wears it a little of a fae's changeling ability. From gargoyle to human with a kiss, from human... to gargoyle, also with a kiss." She offered.

"You're... Wait, are you saying that it could change me into one? Into a gargoyle, like you?" Elisa asked.

Dominique nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying, exactly what I'm offering in fact." She confirmed. "I... think it would make your introduction to my clan go more smoothly, and... it would also give you a good measure more physical prowess during the daylight hours that could be useful if we're attacked while human. It would be a permanent change though, Elisa. Even if you never wore the bracelet again, never became a gargoyle again, you would still gain sustenance from the sun—you would still be part gargoyle. It's how the bracelet's magic works." She told her, feeling that same small sense of unease she always felt when thinking or discussing this too deeply. When you could so easily change what you are, how do you keep your identity as a people? At what point did she, did her people, stop _being_ gargoyles? Had the bracelets, to whatever extent, done that to them already? Had _she_ done that to them? To herself?

Elisa looked at the bracelet on Dominique's wrist. Dominique had explained that while they'd been in bed together, how sunlight gave her more energy, strength, and stamina, even while human. She smiled. "I'm honored by the offer... and I accept." She told her, feeling both excited and apprehensive inside. But... She did want to do this—she wanted to, well, to take a chance on this she guessed. And more, she found that she wanted to be a part of Dominique's world. Magic, intrigue, high stakes, _her_... That's... what it really came down to, she supposed—_who_ it came down to. She was just so drawn to this woman. She wanted to protect her, fight beside her, and to be her lover again... She still felt the echoes of their love making and she wanted that feeling back. She... didn't want to be alone anymore, and she was strangely very certain that Dominique felt the same way towards her.

Dominique let out a relieved breath, feeling a bit anxious as well in that moment. "Alright then..." She agreed, returning an encouraging smile to Elisa. "I'll just go say hello, and then we can go in." She explained, opening the passenger side door and stepping out.

"I'll be here." Elisa said, more to herself than to Dominique. She sat and watched the streets around them, still not entirely convinced that Xanatos wouldn't try something, even if, as Dominique had assured her, a sniper wouldn't be effective because of the mansion's magical defenses. It didn't mean they couldn't attack up close and personal.

Dominique, arriving at the gate, pressed the button to activate the intercom. "It's me." She spoke.

"You are not alone." Vercinix's voice replied.

"She's a... friend." Dominique replied. "Verify: Mi dhachaigh." She spoke their emergency passcode (Scott's Gaelic for _I'm home_) to let her clan know she wasn't an enemy using magic to disguise themselves and wasn't here under duress (they had a second passcode for under duress: Tha mi an seo, which meant _I'm here_).

"...A human?" Vercinix asked, skeptical.

Dominique sighed. "Trust me on this, brother. I give you my word, she's on our side."

There was a pause. "Come in, Dominique." Una's voice came over intercom then. "It's good to have you home."

Dominique let out a breath as the gate slid open.

* * *

Opalia watched avidly as Sophia, still nude from their shower, finished toweling her hair dry and went over to investigate the small, softly humming electrical box on the floor. She'd be curious about the device, even if she wasn't enjoying watching Sophia herself, which she was. As she did sometimes, she tried to imagine what her lover would look like as a gargoyle. It was foolish to think about, and probably impossible. It was enough to hope for that she herself would return to the body she'd been born to, enough to hope that she'd be able to go home one day... but she couldn't help wishing that she could repay Sophia for what she'd done for her by taking her away from this dangerous world she lived in—by taking her home with her where she would be safe, where she wouldn't have to answer to, or be in danger from, vile humans like the one who had kept prisoner for so long. Sophia wasn't like the rest of them, she decided. Sophia had proven that she had a heart that was good and true.

Sophia stood then, having picked out a bottle of soda water from the humming box, opened the bottle, and set aside the lid on a nearby counter. She walked over to the bed where Opalia was sitting, also still nude from their shower.

It was a warm day, Opalia considered, and the sunlight through the window had her feeling strong, vital, a bit lazy, and warm throughout her entire body. She took the bottle from Sophia when offered and found it cold. "The box keeps things cold then?" She guessed idly, taking an appreciative sip. She'd gotten to like soda water at Xanadu. She liked the fizzing, but had never been able or willing to stomach the sickly sweet flavors humans put in other variations of the drink. It was nice that Sophia was thoughtful enough to remember, even now.

Sophia smiled fondly. "A refrigerator, yeah..." She said, tracing a finger down Opal's forearm down to the back of her hand before resting her hand over Opal's. They'd made love in the shower before, but the very focused way Opal was looking at her now, Sophia was more than willing to again.

Opalia took another sip of the soda and passed it back to Sophia, who drank some. "More?" Sophia asked softly.

Wordlessly, Opalia took the bottle and considered it, poring a little over one of her lover's breasts. Sophia gasped softly, but didn't move or cry out. Opalia moved in to lick some of the moisture away. As a lover, she'd been many things to Sophia over their time together, but, she'd realized, she'd never been... playful before... She was going to remedy that.

* * *

"Everything okay?" Elisa asked as Dominique got back into the car beside her.

"Fine." She told her, not entirely believing it. "Just... be penitent with them?"

Elisa smiled. "I'll be so patient they'll think I'm a saint." She told her, tying to lighten the mood a little.

Dominique chuckled a little. "Vercinix and Obsidiana probably won't even know what a _saint_ is." She told her as Elisa put the car in gear and started to pull into the mansion's driveway. "For that matter, I only know it's a title that has something to do with a branch of human spiritual beliefs..."

They were silent a moment then, both lost in thoughts of what was going to happen next.

"I um, I'm going to need to borrow a phone when we get inside. I have to call a friend to take care of Cagney for me, you know, while all this is going on?" She asked. Becca still had a key to her place, and had helped her with Cagney a number of times.

"Of course." Dominique said, looking to her. "I'm sorry, by the way. Not... to have met you, only... to have put you in danger this way."

Elisa smiled to her. "Don't apologize. It is sort of my job, after all."

Dominique smiled fondly to her. "I suppose it is at that."

"Um, Dominique?" Elisa asked.

"Yes?" Dominique replied.

"I'm just... What's it like? To, um, to fly I mean?" Elisa asked as the gates started to close behind them.

"We... don't fly, Elisa. Only glide on wind currents. Before the humans, that's why we would make our homes in the high places. Manhattan, in a way, actually feels more like one of those places than I would have expected of a human city." Dominique explained, closing her eyes. "It's... a beautiful feeling though. I'd... very much like to show you one day." She told her, putting a hand on Elisa's arm as her lover parked the car and turned it off.

Elisa smiled. "I'd call that a date then."

Dominique smiled back to her warmly. "I look forward to it." She agreed, looking out at the lawn. "So, shall we get this awkwardness over with then?" She asked as she opened her door and stepped out into the sunlight.

"I guess we shall." Elisa answered to herself, it all seeming just that much more real a prospect as she opened her door and set foot on the cobblestones of Dominique's driveway. Despite the bit of sudden nervousness though, she wasn't about to back down. As she stood up, she looked around in a little bit of wonder. It was like a park in miniature, with its own small forest besides. The house itself was likewise impressive as she looked up at it. The air smelled sweet and clean somehow, like you'd find on a mountainside in spring. It was unusually quiet too, she was just noticing—less of the ever-present background hum of the city than she was used to. More magic? It had to be. She heard the sound of a door opening and her gaze was drawn to the mansion's front door. She gasped softly in renewed wonder at the woman who emerged. She looked like the gargoyle version of a winged unicorn, dove-like wings and all. The twelve year old girl inside of her wanted to go over and ask if she could touch her wings, or her horn, or... something.

"That's Una." Dominique told Elisa as she finished walking around the car to stand beside her, having transformed into her true self along the way. Elisa hadn't been paying attention to her when she'd gone through her transformation though, and Dominique was gratified to see a sense of appreciative joy and even a little wonderment in Elisa's eyes regarding Una as she turned to her, rather than any sort fear, distrust, or reservations. It made her all the more sure she was doing the right thing.

Elisa was struck anew by the sight of Dominique as she'd first met her—as a gargoyle. When they'd met though, it had been in the dark of night. Here? Now, in the daylight? Elisa took her in. The sunlight seemed to subtly play about her dusky blue skin. She looked up and met her eyes, Dominique a little taller than her in this form.

"Are you ready?" Dominique asked her softly, brushing the knuckle of one of her taloned fingers through Elisa's hair in a fond way.

Elisa nodded that she was and looked down, her eyes following as Dominique took off her bracelet and made to hand it to her. Elisa held her breath. She felt a little apprehensive, that was true, but she stubbornly ignored it and took the bracelet. "What next?" Elisa asked.

"Simply put it on. After that, a kiss freely given is all that it will take." Dominique explained, watching as Elisa slipped the bracelet around her wrist.

From across the way, Una had been heading towards her friend and the unknown human she'd brought with her, Griff having come out behind her to accompany her, when she saw and realized what was happening. Gasping in shock, she halted where she stood, Griff putting a hand to her shoulder, also not saying a thing. They watched on as the human brought the bracelet to her lips and sealed it's magic upon her with a kiss ..._Surely not_, Una told herself as she watched the transformation take hold. Surely this stranger was one of the Guatemalan clan that Dominique had brought here for some reason, or... but no, if that were so, Dominique would have said as much when Vercinix had been questioning her on the matter when she'd been at the gate. She hadn't though. Vercinix had referred to the woman as human, and Dominique had let it stand...

Dominique watched the transformation, Elisa's lithe body swirling with the bracelet's magic. Her heart raced with mixed emotions. She was watching something that could, and probably would, have profound implications for both her own future and that of her clan—possibly even for her entire race. She only hoped she'd learned enough wisdom in her long history of its lack to have made the right decision. So much had changed in the last two decades. So much new...

Elisa blinked, her eyes coming into focus again. She tensed her body and felt her wings, felt the talons of her feet dig slightly into the lawn. She looked down at them, at her feet and hands, and saw that her skin was now a dusky golden color... something like her coloring as a human, except deeper, richer, more vivid. Looking at her feet, it then occurred to her to wonder what had happened to her shoes? She saw the spikes coming from her knees and noted how her jeans had somehow been retailored to accommodate them, then saw the black bands around her ankles and figured that the magic had transformed her clothes too, while it had been transforming _her_. She looked down at her hands then, looked around her... Everything seemed so alive with light and life. Dominique was... amazing to look at, even more amazing than she'd seemed before. Her sight was different now, _richer_ somehow... Something drew her gaze upward though, and then she saw the sun. She stared, transfixed, as a vista of light seemed to fill the entire world. She had... no words...

Dominique shook her and Elisa blinked. "I... what... What just happened?" She asked confused.

Dominique smiled fondly, touching her cheek. "We call it a sun trance. You'll have to be careful of it for the first few months or so until you get used to being as you are now... Even as a human, you'll find your gaze drawn skyward at times. Gargoyles aren't naturally meant to be awake during the day, you see." She confessed something she normally wouldn't have ever considered confessing to a human—but then, Elisa wasn't, strictly speaking, human any longer, was she? Biologically, at least, they were of a kind now. "The bracelet's magic gives us the ability to stay awake throughout the days. Absorbing sunlight while we're conscious to experience it in this way, it can take some acclimation on our parts, and we absorb sunlight most strongly, most quickly through our eyes. We can... tend to get lost in the experience, if we do not learn to guard against it." She told her.

"Yeah... I can see why. It's beautiful..." Human beings couldn't look at the sun without damaging their eyes, couldn't _see_ it (at least, not without a filter). But Elisa just had, and it hadn't hurt at all—it had been wonderful. She had to stop herself from looking again, actually. Gazing at the sun like that, it had been... She couldn't quite think of a way to describe it, even to herself. The closest thing she'd felt was when she and Beth had gone to their father's reservation one summer and an elder of the tribe, a woman who'd only named herself _grandmother_, had guided them on a vision question. Maybe some things just weren't meant to be explained though? After the fact though, she was definitely feeling... like she'd just had a bite of chocolate or that ever-infamous _just one_ potato chip, she supposed. With the sunlight, there hadn't been a taste exactly, like there would be with chocolate or potato chips, but the sensation was definitely one of being nourished. She felt it still, warm and comforting and completely right...

"A part of you wants to surrender to the trance again, even now, doesn't it?" Dominique asked softly.

"I, yeah, I kind of do actually, and just... wow..." She shook her hands out. "I feel like I could run a marathon and not break a sweat. How... How strong am I right now?" She asked.

"At this moment? I would guess that you'd be able to throw an automobile as far as you could have a cellular phone when you were human. In an hour or two, once your body has absorbed more light, that will change to a large truck." Dominique told her.

"A large truck, huh? Somehow I think that's going to take some getting used to." She admitted, handing Dominique back her bracelet. Her gaze falling on Una then as the other gargoyle came up to them. Elisa realized she'd just about forgotten all about her being there. "Um, hi. I'm Elisa. Elisa Maza." Elisa greeted her.

"Una. And this is Griff, my... brother." Una introduced the male gargoyle that had, apparently, exited the mansion after Una had and thus completely escaped Elisa's notice.

Una watched as Elisa's gaze turned to Griff. "Hi there." She greeted him, immediately understanding where he'd gotten the name _Griff_ from—he looked like one, like a griffin, just like Una resembled a unicorn. "It's good to meet you, Griff."

"Right, uh, a pleasure to meet you as well, Elisa..." Griff replied, somewhat apprehensively offering the woman his hand. Griff had seen what had happened, same as his sister, but damned if he knew what to make of it. "You from the Guatemalan bunch, then?" He asked.

Elisa tilted her head to the side a little then. "No, I'm afraid not." She answered. "Manhattan native, through and through."

"Right, well, then... If... you wouldn't mind my asking, Elisa... Just who _are_ you?" Griff asked.

"I think that's a question we'd all appreciate having answered, Dominique." Una added, Dominique meeting her gaze as she spoke.

Una's voice had been guarded, but mainly merely inquisitive, Dominique was relieved to note. "She's... a new friend." She temporized, closing her eyes a moment to gather her thoughts. She had to say more though, and if she could count on anyone to understand and support her about Elisa, she knew it would be Una, who had always been the most supportive of her growing friendship with Robyn Correy. She opened her eyes and met Una's and Griff's gazes in turn. Elisa hadn't spoken, giving her the lead, for which Dominique was grateful. "As I told you, David laid a snare for me. Elisa is a police detective. Human... at least originally." She allowed. "She came to my rescue, fought my attackers at risk of her own life, helped me escape, and even offered me sanctuary within her home..." She trailed off.

"So you... I didn't know those bracelets of yours even worked on the humans?" Griff looked from Elisa to Dominique.

Una sighed. "I knew." There was much, in fact, she knew, that Dominique confided to her that she might not choose to tell the others. In this case, Dominique hadn't wanted the knowledge widely disseminated for fear that one of the others might take it upon themselves to attempt doing it. Dominique had always judged that to be too much of a risk to them. So then, she had to wonder, how much of a striking impression must Elisa Maza have made on her to have her reverse that decision now? "I have to confess I... am surprised you've actually gone so far as to use it for the purpose." She looked to Elisa. "And, you accepted the offer freely?" She asked in curiosity. "You... really did fight for her so fiercely? Never even having encountered one of our kind before?" She asked softly, in a little wonder.

"Well, yeah... I did." Elisa told her.

"Hardly typical for a human, is it?" Griff asked, wary.

"I'd like to hope it's more common than you'd think it is." Elisa told him. "Or, at least that the potential is. I can't imagine many would ever get the chance to prove what they'd do in my shoes, one way or the other."

"So... an optimist, are you? Good on you then." He told her, clasping her shoulder momentarily.

Elisa smiled. Maybe this wouldn't go so badly after all? She hoped so anyway.

"...Thank you." Una finally said. "For protecting her." She wasn't so sure she was ready to believe in this (now former) human's good intentions on face value quite yet, but Dominique trusted her, or seemed to... where she'd never done that before for a human, not in the time since she'd known her at least. Though, admittedly, she had been recently hoping that Robyn Correy might do for her friend what Elisa Maza seemingly had, and convince her once and for all that humans might not all as bad as she'd come to dread them to be. Right now, with the mugging she and her husband had nearly fallen victim to and with David Xanatos's attack on Dominique, she had to admit she wasn't at her most hopeful where humans were concerned either, but... still and all, she couldn't help but hope this was a good thing. Maybe a bit of hope, a bit of moonlight breaking through the clouds on a dark night. Humans had good, had love and worth in them. She'd seen that at the concert she and Leo had attended, just as she'd seen the stark opposite directly afterwards. It wasn't enough, not by any means, but it wasn't nothing either.

"You're welcome." Elisa replied.

Dominique smiled to herself, relieved. But, she knew, Una and Griff had been easy compared to the rest. Leo would likely be hostile, but reserve judgement. Vercinix, she wasn't sure of—he hadn't been taking the modern world as well as could be hoped, and she'd seen a bitterness take hold in him that that she could understand and empathize with all too well. He blamed the humans for his fate, for the death of their clan, for the ruin of their kind... The trouble was, of course, that the humans, in aggregate, were far from underserving of such feelings. And then there was Obsidiana...

"Shall we... go introduce you around then?" Griff asked.

"Sure. Just, tell them to go easy on me, okay?" Elisa asked.

Griff smiled. "Maybe I will at that." She looked so much like—actually _was_ now, he supposed—a gargoyle. More than that though, there was just something about her that made him want to give her the benefit of the doubt. Some openness and trust or belief in the world that, to his experience, most humans lacked.

Dominique sighed in relief that Elisa had seemingly won Griff to her side.

Una gave her a look that offered support, but also encouraged wisdom.

Dominique gave her a confident smile and a hug hello now that the tension had mostly passed. She offered a hug to Griff as well next, before going to take Elisa's hand in hers to go inside.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	26. The First Language

**Daylight... Part 4: The First Language**

Note: As some of you might know from reading the status updates on my author's page, I've been working on reworking this story for a while now, and now that I've got 26 chapters done, I'm posting it for you! :)

[It's why you haven't heard from me for a while, btw.]

The story as it is now starts off mostly the same way and keeps a number of (now modified) pieces from the old story, but really, it's a lot different now, and hugely improved if I do say so. I started writing this story, well, a really long time ago it seems like to me now, and I'm a lot better and a lot different writer now than I was then, and, honestly, some of the stuff I wrote last time just didn't make quite so much sense to me anymore (as some of my commenters did point out to me). The plot line this time is a lot stronger, more well rounded, and I've also had a lot of fun writing scenes for a bunch of the other characters in the story too.

You'll now know what's going on with David Xanatos, you'll be introduced to Dominique's clan much sooner, Robyn Correy's introduced sooner too, and her two brothers' stories are better developed as well. At the end of the first section of the story (titled _Brave_), you'll also be introduced to Fox and Banshee (who's been going by Wen lately). The two of them took over the _Into The Mystic_ bookshop when Una, Leo, and Griff moved to Manhattan with Dominique.

But anyway, yes, if you're in any doubt by this point, this does mean that you pretty much DO have to go back to chapter one and start reading again to know what the heck's going on. Sorry (sincerely) if that's not something you want to do for whatever reason, and you're very welcome if you're thanking me at the moment because you're happy that you now have 26 chapters of new material to read!

I hope you'll stick around and keep reading for the next 26 too :)

* * *

As she entered the mansion, still holding Dominique's hand, Elisa looked up and gave a soft gasp of wonder. The center of the mansion had been hollowed out four stories up with floors and rooms on three sides of the structure in a u shape. There was a fountain in the center of the bottom floor, which was open space with pillars supporting the upper floors. There was shaped stone and potted plants and mirrors that aided the windows in bathing the space in sunlight to best effect. There was a stairway to the right, and walkways on that side of the building. No walkway on the other sides though. She guessed that maybe some of the rooms might only be accessible if you had wings... or climbing gear. There was a definite artificial draft around the room, a gentle flurry of wind that flowed around her. The air had been mostly still outside. This felt better, felt good—even a little exciting. It must be a custom made ventilation system. She looked up and could almost see it, she imagined—the flow of air—where she would need to go, how she could use it. She wanted to try it, in fact. But, well, the sensible part of her told her that it would _probably_ be a good idea to get someone to train her first.

"What do you think?" Dominique asked her softly, a smile in her voice.

Elisa looked to her and returned the smile. "It's beautiful." She told her sincerely.

"I've always thought so too." Una commented. It was hard not to like Elisa Maza, she considered, even having only met her mere minutes before. She would have to be blind not to see the connection between her and Dominique though. How deeply did it run, she wondered? Were they lovers already, or merely enamored of one another? Something about the way they were together made Una guess the former. However much a possibly budding romance might play into it though, one thing was certain: Elisa had earned Dominique's trust somehow—and _that_, Una knew, was no small thing at all.

Dominique looked up and Elisa followed her gaze, seeing another gargoyle gliding down from the top of the building to them. A woman, Elisa recognized. Deep cerulean blue skin. _So, this would be Obsidiana then..._ She considered with some trepidation. She wasn't about to lose her nerve now though. She'd just have to... try to be kind and civil about the whole thing and hope for the best. And damn David Xanatos for this anyway. It would have been nice to go on at least _one_ actual date with Dominique before meeting her ex, really it would've.

Obsidiana glided in to alight on the floor before the group assembled by the mansion's front door. Her eyes met the stranger among them's first and she was struck by her beauty... Her heart raced. Vercinix had told her that Dominique had returned with a human. Clearly, he'd been wrong, but... who was she? She thought back and was more than sure that she'd never seen her before, so she couldn't be of her former clan in Guatemala, though she could pass as such. Where had she come from? "I... Hello...?" She offered, stepping forward, then looking to Dominique in question.

"Hi..." Elisa said, Obsidiana's gaze tracking back to her when she'd spoken. "I'm Elisa. It's... It's good to meet you." She offered warmly, extending a hand.

Obsidiana stepped forward uncertainly and clasped forearms with her. Elisa seemed a little surprised by the gesture, but didn't balk. _Elisa_... She wondered about the name. It could be Spanish. Was she of her clan after all? Lost somehow? Was it... somehow possible that another of the clans in their part of the world survived in secret as well? It would be a welcome wonder if so... Perhaps David Xanatos had found them and treated them poorly, and that's what had caused all of this? "You as well." Obsidiana offered back, feeling a little unsteady and shy. She dropped Elisa's hand then and met Dominique's eyes again. "I'm... very relieved you're truly safe." She spoke.

Relief and those familiar storm of emotions had come over Obsidiana when Vercinix had told her Dominique had come home. She'd been in the arboretum with the children and had taken a few minutes to compose herself and master her feeling as best she could. She'd gone out with Griff last night, even against Dominique's orders not to. Gone to the scene of the attack. Seen the human police. She'd even used the bracelet Vercinix had given her infiltrate the humans as one of them, hoping to learn more. She'd found nothing except more reasons to worry. She'd ended up going to Robyn Correy for her help next... only to end up back home hours later feeling more confused than ever about her own feelings, more stressed and worried over Dominique too, and very glad to spend time in her garden with the clan's children. Even the children and her garden hadn't helped as much as she could have wished though. She still felt stormy inside—and now, looking into Dominique's eyes, it all came rushing in: Heartbreak, confusion, betrayal, a friendship lost... The best, closest, truest friendship she'd ever known... and love—besides all of it, Obsidiana knew, she still felt strongly... that she _loved_ this woman. And it was such a cruel thing, wasn't it? That she couldn't seem to make herself stop... She stepped forward and they hugged and she closed her eyes and relished the connection, over all too soon when they parted.

"Ana, I'm... very sorry I've worried you so..." Dominique told her, touching her hair hesitantly, feeling guilty all over again.

Elisa saw the seemingly overly intimate touch and she had to admit to herself that she didn't like it that much... but she'd noticed Dominique, Una and Griff as well, all seemed to touch more than a human would. She guessed it was just normal for them. Like sitting at a stranger's table in Greece or what have you—a cultural difference.

"It's..." Obsidiana shook her head. "I... talked with Robyn last night." She confessed.

"You... You went out looking for me, didn't you?" Dominique realized. Even though she'd ordered that they all stay safe here at the mansion.

Obsidiana's eyes narrowed and she growled a little. "Did you really expect I wouldn't?" She asked coolly.

Dominique sighed. "I'm... not upset." She told her. "I just... I want you to be safe." She told her, moving closer to Obsidiana. "I can... hardly expect you to feel otherwise about me, can I?" She offered softly.

Obsidiana felt her heart beat faster, felt vulnerable and hurt and, maybe... Before she could council herself not to, she stepped forward, clasped Dominique's neck and kissed her with a yearning passion and frustration she couldn't help but feeling. But, the way Dominique had looked at her, she had to want... But no, she felt Dominique pull away and Obsidiana let her go, backing away and looking into her eyes. She saw a lot of things in Dominique's eyes, but passion wasn't one of them... "I... apparently, I was... _wrong_ to do that." She told her stiffly, sorrow and embarrassment overcoming her as she turned to go, walking towards the mansion's side door that lead out into the trees. She needed to be alone. She needed to be outside.

Dominique stepped to go after her but Una clasped her shoulder. Dominique looked to her and let out a breath, realizing that, obviously, it wouldn't be a good idea to follow. It wasn't as though she could ever be accused of having the skill to make things better between her and Obsidiana since she'd ended things between them—this latest episode would be glaring proof of that, even if nothing else was. They just seemed to... keep misreading each other somehow.

"I'll go." Griff said, following after Obsidiana.

Una watched after him a moment, considering things.

Dominique turned to meet Elisa's eyes then and saw that she was uncertain and uncomfortable with all of this—which, again, should have been another obvious thing. She went over to her.

"You... weren't kidding when you said this wasn't going to be easy." Elisa offered. Dominique had said that she and Obsidiana hadn't connected, but it was obvious to her now that hadn't been exactly true. _Dominique_ hadn't connected. Obsidiana plainly hadn't had the same difficulty... Not at all. In her younger years, Elisa remembered feeling that way for someone who didn't return her feelings. It wasn't fun. It could be a fairly crushing sort of feeling, in fact. And the woman Elisa had fallen for back then hadn't accepted her advances, only to then back out months later saying she'd made a mistake (however unintended). Elisa had to feel for Obsidiana, imagining what a blow that must have been. She could well imagine having some unresolved feelings after something like that. Especially having to still cohabitate, and... with there being so few gargoyles left in the world.

"I'm sorry..." Dominique offered in return.

Elisa closed her eyes as Dominique's hands came to her shoulders, then opened them again and gazed into her eyes. "It's alright." She told her. "I mean, I'd be lying if I said I was thrilled about it, but... I mean, I can kind of get where she might be coming from? It can't be... and I can see you care for her a lot. I get that too, really I do. And we... It's..." She sighed. "Let's just get through this whole mess with Xanatos? Then we can talk, maybe try that whole dating thing we talked about for a while?" She offered.

"We could do that..." Dominique said, quirking a smile before moved in to kiss her, gratified that Elisa didn't resist. Elisa was so... attractive like this. Flustered, unsure, but still so open and understanding—empathetic, in a very _charming_ sort of way.

Elisa's heart was racing at the kiss, at Dominique's touch. She knew it was probably not that bright an idea to let herself like this so much, but she really did... just want to tear Dominique out of her clothes all the sudden, drag her to the nearest bed and make love to her again. Maybe part of it was that the sunlight was still making her feel like she was... super-human or something, but, she knew... Dominique Destine also just... really pushed her buttons this way, it seemed like. It really wasn't so much like her to fall into bed with someone so quickly... It had happened a few times in her life, true, and they'd met under emotionally intense circumstances... but she just, she couldn't help thinking this was, or at least could be, more than any of that. But then, she reminded herself... maybe Obsidiana had felt the same way when things had started between her and Dominique?

The kiss broke and Dominique stared intently into Elisa's eyes.

Elisa smiled reassuringly. She'd never been a coward where her heart was concerned, and she'd been hurt for it... Especially with Margot's death, she supposed, but she wouldn't have chosen never to have met her, never to have had the chance to know her, to fall in love with her, be with her, even knowing how it would end. Well, she certainly had no clue how this thing with Dominique was going to end, or where it was going now, but she wasn't about to quit without finding out.

"So, you _are_ together then?" Una spoke up, though it wasn't entirely meant as a question... More an entertaining rejoinder, actually.

Dominique met her closest friend's gaze with surety. "The... beginning of a courtship, I would say." She told her. "I'm not sure I can say more than that..." She admitted, looking then to Elisa in question.

Elisa smiled. "I think we're both committed to finding out what we could be to one another?" She offered.

Dominique smiled back warmly, glad at the confirmation. She had been a little worried, and was still somewhat disquieted herself after Obsidiana's kiss. Had she really given her false signals, or mixed ones, to that degree? Why- ...You really would think she'd be better at communicating her feelings to others after having lived such a very long life... True, much of that life had been led in solitude and isolation from any of her own kind, or any she might conceivably call friend, but she was not at all sure that was a legitimate enough excuse for this. She had to make this right with her, with Obsidiana, _somehow_.

"Well... I'm happy for you, for you both then." Una told them in a subdued tone. "Shall we go up, talk with the others then?" She asked.

"I'm game." Elisa answered.

"I... should make some phone calls first." Dominique admitted, looking to Elisa. "You have one of your own to make, as I recall." She reminded her with a fond smile. "And I haven't forgotten: I will take you to your police station. Soon."

Elisa nodded.

Dominique looked to Una.

"Police station?" Una asked, confused.

"She'll be staying with us until the crisis has past." Dominique explained. "David will likely know who she is by now, and I won't have her put in danger as thanks for saving me from harm."

"I have some time off coming, but I need to check in with my captain before I can take it. Besides, what happened last night was a police incident. If I don't report in after what happened, it'll raise questions. Dominique was there as a gargoyle, and they have several of the mercenaries that attacked her in custody. Any more questions get raised on this, there might be a full-scale investigation... which could potentially even put your," she looked down at herself and considered "or I guess now _our_, secret in danger." She explained. "Dominique offered to use a um, a teleportation book to get me there and back though...?" She looked from Una to Dominique.

Una sighed. As if this wasn't complicated all ready. "Alight..." Elisa looked back to her then. "And this phone call you have to make?" She asked.

"I need someone to cat-sit for me. I have a cat, her name's Cagney, I um, so yeah." Elisa smiled a little helplessly. "I need to make a phone call for that."

Una couldn't help but smile, amused. "Alright... We do have a secure line upstairs you can use. Are you... comfortable coming up with me while Dominique makes her calls then, or would you rather wait for her here?" She asked.

Elisa looked to Dominique whose expression seemed to indicate that she would be fine with either choice. "I guess I'm going with you then." Elisa told Una. She had the feeling Una, and maybe the others she hadn't met yet, might respect her more that way.

Dominique nodded. "I won't be long then." She told them, turning to go. She broke into a run across the floor, jumping up onto the fountain's sturdy, metal centerpiece and then gliding up to a second floor alcove, disappearing within. The space was designed in such a way to provide consistently good updrafts for that sort of gliding—there was even a mechanism to customize the intensity of the drafts if desired.

Elisa smiled and shook her head. "This is going to take some getting used to." She admitted.

Una laughed a little. "I would imagine so." She told her. "I've used one of the bracelets to spend time as a human myself. It was... quite an experience to become accustomed to." She admitted.

_One of_, Elisa noted. So, there were more than just the one? She thought it probably wouldn't do her hopes of building Una's trust any good to ask though. "Yeah, I guess it would be." Elisa admitted, experimentally flexing her new wings and swishing her new tail, wondering at the sensations. It was strange how quickly she seemed to have gotten used to the tail. "I wonder..." Elisa said softly to herself, trying something. After a few short, aborted attempts, she managed to get her wings to drape over her shoulders like a cape the way she'd seen Dominique and the others do.

Una smiled fondly. "You learn quickly, it seems." She offered, actually rather impressed by how calm, accepting, and able Elisa seemed to be about this. She herself hadn't handled the transition to human with so much grace—_Leo_ certainly hadn't, she smiled at the fond memory of his wide-eyed, baffled expression.

"Huh, I guess maybe I do." Elisa smiled brightly. "I can hardly wait to try actually using them though—my, um, my wings, I mean." She admitted. "I can almost see them, you know—the wind currents up there? I guess you all can though." She mentioned, looking up above them again in fascination.

Una smiled to her fondly again. "It does feel curiously almost like sight sometimes, does it not?" She considered. "In truth, it partly is sight, actually. Our minds use all of our senses as one to provide us with the guidance. Its easiest to focus on sight, of course, but you'll be more intuitive in the air if you learn to navigate first without it—to trust in your other senses more fully... I'd offer to be your teacher, but somehow I think that you already have one in the offering who wouldn't thank me for my attempt to supplant her."

Elisa yawned and stretched her arms over her head. "Yeah. I guess not." She said, shaking her head a little to clear her thoughts. She'd gotten a little lost watching the wind patterns there for a moment, and then felt a little tired when she'd looked back to Una as she'd finished speaking. As though she'd been reading a book too long or something.

"As Dominique said, it will take some time for you to become accustomed to the sunlight's effects on you." Una offered with patient amusement. "Standing idle will tend to make you lethargic, whereas while being active you'll have far more energy and vitality than you will likely know how to deal with. In time, you'll learn to... regulate the effect." She explained.

"Regulate it?" Elisa asked. "How?"

Una considered that. "Close your eyes." She told her, moving to rest her hands on Elisa's wing-draped shoulders. "Try to feel the radiant energy inside you."

Elisa did as she was told and was surprised to realize that she did indeed immediately recognize the sensation Una was referring to. She gasped softly, opening her eyes.

Una smiled warmly. "I gather the regular, unspelled sort of human doesn't have a sense of that within them, then?" She asked.

Elisa shook her head a little, a little disappointed despite herself when Una's hands fell away and she stepped back from her a pace. "No, we really don't." She admitted. It was like a... Like Una had described, a well of radiance inside her, pulsing to the beat of her own heart and suffusing her entire body. It had been there growing inside her since she'd become a gargoyle out on the driveway outside, she realized, but she hadn't recognized it exactly, not until she was told that it was there.

"I had suspected not, though I didn't know for sure until now." Una admitted. "It will always be with you now, you should know. Less so as a human, and not so intense during the night, but it will still be there, unless you become utterly exhausted when out of the sun. I imagine it will take you some time, I can't say how much, to learn how best to manage it." She told her. "With time though, you'll be able to consciously regulate it—to an extent, at least. Enough that you'll be able to prevent unwanted lethargy or overexcitement, at least. With yet more time, it should even become as second nature."

Elisa hummed to herself a little, considering that. "Good to know." She said, looking over to Una again. "Thank you, for... you know, giving me a chance, I guess? She, Dominique, she told me that you, all of you... haven't really had many good experiences where humans are concerned."

Una sighed, looking over to the windows and crossing her arms. "No, I suppose we very much haven't, have we?" She considered, looking back to meet Elisa's open, guileless eyes and smiling a little to her. "As not to say it's all been so very bleak. Not for me, at least, or for Leo and Griff." She admitted. Though, certainly, there had been times... But, best not to delve into that particular truth just now, she judged. "We... used to own a book shop, you see. In London." She offered instead.

Elisa smiled. "Sounds like there's a story there."

"There is. More than one, actually." Una admitted. "We presented ourselves to our patrons as... eccentrics, who liked to be fanciful and dress up in costumes. I suppose, having since, of necessity, become more acquainted with the humans' ideas of business, a good number of them must have assumed it to be more in the line of a marketing ploy than anything."

Elisa regarded her thoughtfully. "I can imagine so." She answered. "It's just..." She stepped a little closer. "How did you manage to fool them?" She asked, reaching out a hand as if to touch Una's face, but stopping herself before she did. "I can't imagine anyone with eyes would take you for wearing a costume. You're too... real." She smiled softly to her, thinking how beautiful and fantastic she was. The urge to touch though, it wasn't quite the same feeling she'd have as a human, and she wondered if there might not be something more than cultural differences to the behavior?

Una smiled to her fondly again, brushing her knuckles over Elisa's cheeks gently to let her know that her touch was welcome. "You're right, of course." Una agreed. She was aware that humans didn't see touch the same way as gargoyles did, so she'd been attempting to be respectful of that—admittedly, with only partial success. Elisa was a gargoyle now, after all, and with another of her kind, the behavior was so much second nature to Una that she wasn't used to having to think about it.

Elisa closed her eyes in appreciation of the touch a moment. It didn't feel sexual, it just felt... right. It wasn't a strong feeling, less of a craving than the sun's allure, for certain, and, of course, as a human, she enjoyed the usual forms of touch and physical comfort with friends, with family, or, of course, with a lover, but this felt... oddly different. Almost like... something close to _language_.

"Before we started things, I'd found a spell that made anyone who entered our shop more..." Una smiled as Elisa moved a little closer and brought a hand to her bicep. "Well, gullible, I suppose. We did try not to take _too _much advantage."

Elisa had to smile at that. She stepped back though, realizing what she'd just done, getting so close. "I'm sorry." She told her.

"It's alright." Una told her gently, hesitantly moving forward and wrapping Elisa up in a somewhat awkward hug. Elisa quickly relaxed against her though and returned the embrace gladly.

When Una stepped back from her, Elisa felt she understood that _something_ she was feeling a little better. "It's... like a language, isn't it? Touch, I mean?" She asked softly. "Only, one without any words?"

Una tilted her head and gave a slightly wondering smile. "As a matter of fact, yes, I suppose it actually is. Growing up we were told it, openly shared, measured, or lacking, was our language once, very long ago, before the humans. Our first language—meant to convey things truer than words. That only later did the fae show themselves to us, and following them, the humans... Dominique tells me that, in fact, one of the fae _made _the humans."

Elisa's eyes widened. "Made?" She asked. "...Who?"

"Odin, he's called. You may recognize the name from Norse mythology?" Una asked.

"I do. Of course I do." Elisa said. "...Is it true?"

Una shrugged. "I tend to think so, yes." She admitted.

Elisa shook her head. "And the hits just keep on coming." She smiled ruefully to herself.

"You... have one of the humans' religions?" Una asked, wondering if she'd just made a mistake. Watching Elisa's reaction, she wasn't _too_ concerned, but she was familiar enough with the ways of humans to know that religion, or arguments over philosophy and such, could often be one of the primary reasons humans gave themselves to excuse their violence. Like much about humanity though, she didn't feel as though she truly understood. That was to say, taking religion as an example, she had yet to understand how it made any sense at all. If the humans had a hundred different things they believed and only one could be right, what was the point in arguing over it? In _killing_ over it? It wouldn't change who was right and who wasn't, if any of them were. A human could look at the ocean, see the sky, and conclude there were two skies. Then that same human could go to war and murder everyone who refused to tell him he was right, but the ocean wouldn't care—_certainly_ wouldn't change itself into another sky just to validate his supposed victory.

Elisa shook her head. "No, or, not really." She admitted. "I mean, I wonder about, you know, life's mysteries and everything. Everyone does. And my sister and I, we have taken a few trips to Arizona, to meet my father's people. They have legends, rituals, a respect for the living world that I've always thought was, I don't know... worth trying to carry onward, I guess."

Una smiled. "If that's the case, then you do them proud, I'd say." She told her, pleasantly surprised by Elisa's answer, and further impressed with her for it. "Shall we go meet the others, then?"

Elisa smiled, actually a little relieved for an excuse to move their conversation on to other topics. "Yes." She agreed. "Let's go do that."

* * *

( to be continued )

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	27. Just Under The Surface

**Daylight... Part 5: Just Under The Surface**

* * *

Dominique, after making her way up to the fourth floor, arrived at her home office. To put herself more in the right mindset, she kissed the bracelet she wore one more time to assume her human form. It was a good decision, she considered. More than the right mindset, this was a stressful situation, and she couldn't entirely rule out that she might lose her temper when talking to either Lockland or Robyn. Or, well, not with Robyn, of course. True, Robyn could be exasperating at times, she smiled a little to herself to think, but, rather than provoking her temper, on the contrary, talking with Robyn usually calmed and relaxed her. In any case, Lockland _had_ brought out her temper a few times in the past, as she'd managed to bring out his a time or two—and a gargoyle's growl was nothing that a human throat could conceivably ever produce, so it was better to be cautious.

She _wanted_ to talk with Robyn first, she considered, knowing she could use a dose of calming at the moment. Not only was David's threat looming over her head, implications still far from certain, but her bungled interaction with Obsidiana downstairs in front of Elisa was bothering her more and more the more she thought about it. Robyn was always who she talked to after something like that happened. She sighed. But she knew getting an update from Lockland was more pressing, so, going to lean against the edge of her desk and pick up her telephone, she dialed the number. The phone only rang once before Lockland answered. "Yes?"

"It's me." Dominique identified herself. "Report?"

Jericho sighed on the other end of the line, walking down the back ally he'd ducked into a little farther for a bit more privacy. "It's not good, I'm sad to say." He told her honestly, battling a sense of guilt and damaged pride over having failed his task so spectacularly. Not only had he let her down, failed his mission, but he'd gotten at least four people who were not his intended targets killed. Cole, though no doubt still in a bad way, was meant to pull through at least, so there was that. Last he'd heard though, she still hadn't woken. "Are you still secure where you are?" He asked.

"I am." She told him, her eyes narrowed at the door to her office and her heart was beating a little fast in her chest. She was anxious about this, felt the temptation to lash out welling up in her chest, but she was strong willed enough to control it. "Now, your target, I take it he's...?"

"Reportedly injured, but alive. Taken refuge at Xanadu." Jericho informed her. "...I'm sorry. I feel like I've let you down."

"You have. Obviously." She told him somewhat sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. "But we always knew it might not be so easy to _deal_ with him. Just... tell the details?"

"Right. I got a team past Eyrie's security. They engaged the target, but were taken out somehow. I... took more drastic measures at that point. Fired a couple rockets into the penthouse from a chopper. Had him dead in my sights, I'd swear to anything you'd care to name that I did." He reported, still uneasy thinking about this whole thing and all the _improbabilities_ that had kept David Xanatos on this side of death's dreaded doorway. "I made my escape, saw the building burning as I went, got away clear. No traces. I thought sure my job was done, only to get a report later that my target was alive and relatively _unscathed_. The only... There was a janitor on the floor below it seems... Wasn't scheduled to be there that time of night, I... Well, I'm at a loss to explain any of it, really, and nor what came next."

Dominique felt a headache coming on. "A bystander killed..." She spoke, thinking with dread what Elisa might think of her for this when she found out. Could she keep it from her somehow? No... No, she couldn't see how, and besides... it wouldn't exactly be a very honorable way to treat her, would it? Not when... Not when Elisa had been nothing _but_ honorable towards her. She was keeping enough from her already... leading her to think of her as likely a better person than she actually was—_certainly_ a better person than she'd been in the past, at any rate. "Only one though?" She asked, hoping this didn't get any worse.

"Not that there haven't been other deaths in this mess of mine, but yes. He's the only non-combatant killed or injured." Jericho reported.

"...Fine. Continue. I take it this isn't the end of it?" She asked, knowing the answer.

"No. No, it's not. I had Xanatos tracked, called in Brice and his team. They went in full armor, full equip, and engaged his caravan before they could reach Xanadu." Jericho told her. "...Reagan Cole was the only survivor, and she's banged up enough that's she's in a coma. Getting the best care, of course, but... her armor—the damage it took looks like nothing I've ever _seen_. Trevor Marks was worse—a _lot_ worse. It looked... He was _torn_ apart, Dominique—with claws and who knows what all—up close and personal. It was done right _through_ his armor. I'd... say it looked like a wild animal attack, a pack of rabid wolves or the like, except no pack of wolves could have gotten through that armor."

"And Brice?" Dominique asked.

"No word." Jericho replied. "We can't find a bloody _trace_ of him or his gear anywhere. We've covered the combat zone and well past and nothing. I've got people continuing the search, but, well, either he ran and he's holed up somewhere with no means of contact or they've got him—ten will get you twenty it's the _latter_. I'm telling you... Right from the get go, none of this is adding up. David Xanatos _should_ be dead right now, at least twice over. I had some _theories_ about how he might have survived the blast at Eyrie, but now with this...? The only thing I can figure here is he's got access to tech that's _way_ past what our intel has him at. An energy shield generator, maybe even one that fits on his person, and a suit of battle armor—something big and very nasty, with a kind of man inside whose as vicious as any I've ever seen... I know it sounds like I'm blowing smoke here, but-"

"No, no... I've know you long enough to know you've got too much integrity about these things to lie to me about something like this. Besides..." She trailed off, thinking as she stood and started pacing the floor. She didn't think that energy shields and beastly armor more advanced than anything she had were to blame. No, this sounded a lot more like magic... She'd known David had a standing interest in the subject, of course, but...

"Besides what, exactly?" Jericho asked, having an inkling all of the sudden that his employer knew, or at least had a strong suspicion as to just what was behind all this.

"Not important right now." She told him.

"Hell it's not." Jericho challenged. "If you know what's..." He trailed off. "Sorry, I- I know I've no right, it's only-"

"No, you're right. You've lost friends to this now. I suppose that means you do have a... right to know." She allowed, not that she really thought any such thing, but she did understand why he'd want to know, and understand that she couldn't have him looking for answers in her direction, or, more importantly, in her clan's direction if he weren't satisfied with a no-answer answer. In this case, _some_ of the truth was better than none. "You're aware of David's... interests in magic and the arcane, I take it?" She questioned.

"I... Well, yes. I've got the man's entire life story, so far as we know. Are you...?"

"I am. Magic is real, Lockland. No longer very prevalent in the world, and most of what people will tell you is magic very definitely is not, but the real thing _is_ still out there if you know what to look for and how to make it work for you. Trust me on this, I've seen it myself, and if you've read the man's full profile, you should know that David isn't the kind of... of man to spend his time frivolously. I hadn't... I hadn't thought he knew enough or had an object _powerful_ enough to do this sort of thing, but... It's the only thing that adds up, doesn't it?" She pressed.

"I well, that is..." Jericho closed his eyes and thought back. "Cole's armor..." He said. "The way it... The way it... It did something to my eyes, just looking at it. We checked it for radiation—nothing. I've got people going over it inch by inch about now, but-"

"Unless I miss my guess, they won't be able to explain it any more than you could." Dominique told him.

"Well..." He shook his head. "So... assuming this is all true, where does that leave us, exactly? I... don't suppose you've got any of this magic up your own sleeves, do you?"

"...Some." She admitted. "I only worry it's not going to be enough."

"I'd be thinking along those lines myself about now, that's sure." He had to agree, still not entirely sure he was going to believe any of this until his tech team came back to him with a solid _what in almighty hell is going on?_ But it wasn't as if his own theory really held so much more water, was it? "Still, the question remains: What now?"

"I want you to dig into every _one_ of David's known associates. Anyone _close_ to him. I want them screened for anything that... doesn't feel _right_ to you, or anything that would indicate they have a knowledge magic in their background. Other than that, maintain surveillance. I'll call as soon as I have more direction for you." She told him.

"Right... Will do then." He told her.

She hung up the line and growled under her breath at the empty room that was only lit by sunlight through the blinds. She looked at the window a little blankly for a moment, then went to sit down at her desk, leaning back in her chair to think.

What were the possibilities? She considered.

One: That it wasn't magic at all, that Lockland was at least _partially_ correct. That if there _were_ magic involved, that Xanatos had used lesser levels of it in conjunction with technology to achieve this effect. She'd done much the same in constructing the defenses for the mansion she was sitting in after all, hadn't she? She couldn't rule out entirely that David had thought along the same lines... but it didn't exactly fit with the viciousness of the attack on Brice's people, did it?

Possibility two: David had a _fae_ protecting him. The iron she'd had installed in Brice's team's armor would have been an impediment, but not necessarily been enough of a defense—few things were, against a fae. And there _were_ certain ways to force one of them into compliance, she knew. Very _few_ ways, but they existed, and it wasn't _entirely_ out of the question that he might have happened to learn of one and found a way to put it to use. That, or one of the fae was helping him willingly... Neither option seemed likely. If he had a fae at his beck and call, wouldn't he already _have_ the immortality he sought from her? So, at least not a _captive_ fae then—not unless he somehow didn't know what he was dealing with at any rate, and she credited him with more sense than that. A willing partner though... In that case, Xanatos might not even _know_ with whom he dealt, would he? It was a bit much to believe he wouldn't have noticed coming through the recent assaults alive as he had, but so what if he _had_ noticed? What could he do about it? Likely very little, if anything. She had made a few enemies that might just use means like this. Raven perhaps. Odin, possibly, but it seemed unlikely. Quetzalcoatl? No, she seemed even _more_ unlikely... Titania—she, obviously, was the most likely of any of them. This, all of this, could all too easily be her pushing for a resolution to her little test of _character_, couldn't it?

So much... So much weight to bear. Things had been going so well lately though, hadn't they? Or, not on every front, certainly—all she had to do was recall the scene with Obsidiana that had happened minutes before to be assured of _that_—but... but life had been good for her for once, hadn't it? She'd... She had a clan again—family, as the humans might say. She was doing _good_ in the world. She was making a place for her people to live—making space for them in the world again. Even the humans had benefited _greatly_ from her efforts. And they would _continue_ to, if she had her way. Most humans were placid enough, if given a just guiding hand. She could be that. Her _people_ could be that to them. That had been their mistake all those many years ago—to think that it was possible to simply go on living as they had. Adapting perhaps—_compromising_ when they needed to—but, essentially taking it on faith that if they left the humans be, that the humans would have the sense to do likewise.

They had _not_. So now... Now she was going to damned well _make_ them. She'd managed it well enough in central America after all, hadn't she? And they all _thanked_ her for it. Most did at any rate, not counting those who'd more than _earned_ their deaths at her bidding.

No, she needed to believe in the course she'd set. She would _defeat_ Titania's challenge, one way or the other, whether this mess with David was her interference or whether it was not.

Which brought her, of course, to the _third_ possibility: That David had somehow acquired an object of great power. The Grimorum Arcanorum possibly. It was a human-made magical book that was widely regarded to contain the most powerful magic that humans had ever known within its pages. It was the book from whose pages had been torn the spell that had cursed Aslan and the other lost ones to stone for all this time. She had only lain eyes on it once since that time, and lost track of it since. There were other magical tomes of course—three in Una's library alone—but would one of those be enough to do this? Possibly. Especially if, as she'd thought earlier, he'd used it in conjunction with high tech armor of his own.

Then there were the _fae_ objects loose in the world. The Phoenix Gate, Titania's Mirror, the Spear of Light, and... of course, the Eye of Odin... among others, quite possibly.

"The eye." She spoke aloud in a whisper.

It couldn't be that, could it? Where _Titania_ was concerned, it _could_ be, she realized, getting up with a start and rushing from her office to her sleeping chambers the next door over. She kissed her bracelet as she went and grabbed the base of her large bed, lifting it up and tossing it aside.

She retrieved a dagger from her nightstand and knelt in the center of the floor where her bed had once been. She closed her eyes and spoke softly an enchantment, using the knife to cut the palm of her left hand as she spoke. The blood dripped on the floor and magic swirled and broke with a flush of air and light all around her.

The air in the room still charged with the magic's potential, so long held tight within the spell, now finally released, she put her right hand to the vault door's hand reader and spoke. "Access: Dominique Destine. Forever's sorrow."

The safe unlocked and she opened the door, her heart beating fast.

"...There." She said to the room in relief, letting out a breath she'd been holding. _It's still there._

Hesitantly, she picked up the piece—the Eye of Odin. She looked at it in her hands and felt it calling to her, tempting her with its power. So familiar a feeling, she could never mistake it. This was no replica. She closed her eyes and really _thought_ about it all again like she hadn't let herself in... months, probably.

The Eye of Odin was literally one of Odin's eyes, changed by fae magic into a golden amulet with a crystalline center. As punishment for some act of hubris, Oberon took one of his son's eyes and cast it out into the mortal world. He cursed it so that Odin could never take it back until a mortal rejected its power and freely gave it to him. She still didn't know precisely what crime Odin had committed to earn his punishment, but she'd rather liked to think at times that it had been because he'd allowed his creations—the humans—to run amuck over the world as they had, despoiling so much of it and killing... always killing and killing and killing... _and_, she thought sorrowfully of herself, exactly how many have _you_ killed in your long life this far?

_Far_ more than she could count.

She thought of Elisa then.

As the Eye was a part of Odin, so its power's was a mirror of Odin's power. Whoever wore it had, potentially at least, _all_ of Odin's power at their command. The more power the wearer was able to access, the weaker Odin became in the moment. It did not act on every bearer in the same way though—far from it. No, within each, it brought out the parts of who they were that were buried deepest, the parts that they hid from the world. Beast or paragon, thief, murder, scholar, or hero—that's who you'd be. How much of Odin's power would be at your command was a measure of how much you knew your own soul, or so Wen had told her once.

When she'd worn the eye herself, she'd thought that at last she'd had the power to right the world. She hadn't realized just how much power she'd had at first, and for years after she wasn't at all sure whether she should have regretted that fact, or been thankful for it. Now, she greatly suspected that being thankful was the right reaction. She'd been no beast, but she had become... incredibly focused, all too sure of herself, and all too willing to use and manipulate her friends to achieve her ends.

She'd shown Fox the worst horrors that humans perpetrated upon one another and the world they lived in and after that Fox had, to both their later regret, been likewise all too willing to listen to her righteous, honeyed words. They'd done things that could never be undone. To this day, she wanted to believe she'd acted out of good intentions... but, as the humans were fond of saying: The road to hell was paved with such as those. The notion of hell was blatantly absurd of course, and the saying itself was far too over simplified, but she took their point. She thought, rather, that the _real_ point of the lesson should be that good intentions could be all too easily corrupted by things like anger, guilt, regret, hate, loneliness... Instead, what she strove for now was a centered mind and a wider view of the world. Retribution, she'd learned from her experience with the Eye, was a useless, tragic thing. Instead of trying to punish the humans for their many wrongs, she'd concluded that she needed to make something better—make the _world_ better.

The humans could have their place in it, they simply couldn't _ever_ again be allowed to guide its path as they'd been left to do for the past thousand years. _That_, she and her kind were _much_ better suited for. And, just perhaps, some, like Elisa Maza, could come to be counted among that number?

In any case, as punishment for their crimes—for killing Anansi (a fae who'd made his home in Africa whom she and Fox had run afoul of) and for very nearly killing Odin—Fox's power had been bound up tight so that she could only use it for small things, or under certain circumstances. Dominique's punishment had been that she keep the eye—not as a gift, but as a test... as a threat. If she used it to prove her redemption, prove that, as she'd insisted to Titania in her defiance, that she had true virtue, then Titania would grant a boon—_any_ boon within her power to grant. If she failed though... then _everything_ she cared for would be undone. Every gargoyle in the world would be transformed into a human. They would not remember their former selves, and they would not remember _her_. The bracelets would be taken away and destroyed, and Dominique would be left the last gargoyle, no longer able to disguise herself as a human—forever... or, at least, until she or Macbeth finally decided to end it. She would be the only one to remember her kind... besides the fae, one would assume, and perhaps Macbeth as well (she really hadn't cared to inquire too deeply as to the finer points on the matter at the time).

She clenched the Eye in her hands. It was hard not to hate Titania for doing this to her—for placing an entire race's fate in her hands. It wasn't even close to just—none of it was. This world, this Earth, had been theirs _first._ Gargoyles had lived here before the humans, before even the fae. No, the _fae_ had come here from the stars, behaved as though it were theirs by right of _power_, and one of them had _made_ the humans and set them loose as a _plague_ upon the world, taking _no_ responsibility for the works they'd wrought...

And here, at last, the fae queen does this. Not for the first time, she wondered if this... could all be for nothing. That her race had been here first, that this world was their home more than the humans' or the fae's made not one jot of practical difference, did it? Despite that it should. It didn't because the fae and their human children used force to take what they wished and cared _far_ less for any sort of virtue than either race liked to pretend that they did. So, that being the case, would Titania even play her true in the end? When it had been left entirely in her purview what constituted success and what failure, how much hope did Dominique truly dare hold out?

No, as she'd concluded to herself more than once, might it not be wiser to never don the Eye again? To leave the challenge unmet? To not test Titania's character, when she had so very many doubts that there was any true virtue to be found there at all?

She sighed.

But if Titania _were_ behind all this? If Titania truly _did_ mean to _force_ her hand? Could she hope to resist?

No... No, she had not so much hubris left in her to even _imagine_ she could win that contest.

But, she reassured herself, it wasn't yet certain that this was even Titania's hand at all, was it? Perhaps David had simply obtained lesser spell books after all, and found a way to imitate her and Una's successes with using magic and technology in concert? Maybe he'd found the Grimorum, and maybe it was Raven's doing, or even Odin's for that matter? She wouldn't know until she knew, she told herself.

She sat there, just looking at the Eye, letting herself feel what she was feeling. She wanted to put it back... and she didn't want to put it back. A part of her that she wasn't terribly proud of craved having that power again. Far more than that though, _all_ of her was just... afraid—afraid to even be _touching_ this thing again. Afraid of what Titania would do, and even afraid of what she herself might do. It was so easy, after all, to say that it would be different this time. That she was a better person now. That she knew herself, knew her own heart more than she once had...

She closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

It didn't matter. That was the truth in this. She reached into the vault, took out a small satchel, and put the Eye inside. She closed the vault and put her bed back where it had been. She sat down, her hands on her lap, cupping the satchel in her palms. She looked down at it again.

She had to keep it with her now. If this was Titania, she would have her way, and the test would come. If this was the Grimorum, she might need the Eye to win, to avoid any more curses from the damned thing befalling those she loved. If this was Raven, then she needed to be prepared for anything. If this was Odin, she would need the Eye to fight him and be able to win through. She had to protect her clan. If donning the Eye of Odin again proved the only way to do that in the end, then she would do so. She would do so, and she would fight, and she would face Titania's judgment, and she would fight even her if she had to—even knowing that she must inevitably lose if it came to such dire ends. She would not go meekly though.

No, never that.

...She needed to call Robyn and check in, she reminded herself as she looked over to a nearby clock to check the time. And then she needed to go see how Elisa was getting on and go from there.

There was much to do.

* * *

( to be continued )

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	28. Blessings From Heaven

**Daylight... Part 6: Blessings From Heaven**

* * *

Obsidiana walked through the woods, stepping in and around the thick trees. She heard the footfalls following her and slowed, turning. A part of her wanted to hope that it would be Dominique, come to... make amends somehow. A part of her dreaded that it would be Dominique, come to hurt her all over again, whether she meant it or not. The sensible part of her knew though that it would either be Una, full of concern, or Griff, come to, yet again... console her.

And so, of course, it was Griff she saw heading towards her. And so she just stood there. Griff wouldn't likely go away after all, not unless she told him to.

She met his eyes steadily as he caught up to her. "Ana, I know-"

"Stop." She cut him off. "Turn around, brother. Leave me be."

"But-"

"Now! Leave!" She told him, her eyes flashing with restrained anger. It wasn't anger at him, she knew, but, at the moment, she didn't care about that fact as much as she should... which was all the more reason why he needed to leave her be right now.

He just looked back at her a long moment, nodded, and turned to do as she'd told him.

She watched after him wistfully, remembering, for some reason, what he had been like to couple with. He'd been... wonderful, she considered. He was always wonderful. She... liked that he cared about her that way—that someone did, anyway. He was married of course, but, she let herself think of it a moment, if for no other reason than she didn't want to think about how much of a fool she'd just made of herself...

Even when they'd been making a child together though, he'd been only her brother, she knew. It had only been comfort, caring, and the necessity of another child for their small clan between them. She just... wished she had someone like he did. Like Una did... Una had married Leo though. It was true that they... hadn't had other options. Still... Dominique had married a man too, hadn't she? In her youth...? Humans married woman to man as well, and... Dominique spent a lot of _time_ as a human. Was that the problem? Why Dominique had rejected her as she had? Because she... wasn't a man?

She'd never considered the possibility before, she realized. She didn't like to think that was what it might be, but... she had to acknowledge to herself that the explanation did make at least as much if not more sense than any of the other ways she'd tried to explain to herself what had gone wrong.

She closed her eyes tight against the tears that came at the thought. It didn't help, they fell anyway.

She turned away from the mansion and walked blindly a little ways until she found a place among the trees where there was a comfortable space to lay. She made herself as comfortable as she could, laying on her side with her wings wrapped around her. She kept her eyes closed against the sunlight, clutched her hands together in a ball against her chest, and let herself cry and feel utterly miserable.

She fought this feeling every day. Sometimes it felt like she'd always been fighting it. In fact, before Dominique, only as a small girl did she remember a time when it might have been different. With her touch, Dominique had begun to take those feelings away more and more, day by day... When she'd ended things though, the feelings had all come back, worse than ever.

Why did it have to be so hard, she often wondered to herself...? Why did it have to be so hard, just to live?

As time went by, the tears faded and she opened her eyes and saw the forest floor close before her. She stared long minutes and then closed her eyes again. Gargoyles couldn't sleep, she knew—not after they'd been touched by the magic of one of Titania's bracelets. She remembered sleep though. She brought her wrist up and looked at the bracelet a moment, hating herself for her own weakness even as she brought it to her lips to bestow upon it a kiss.

Magic came alive about her and, very soon, she was human again. She stared at the bracelet a for a few seemingly timeless moments. This spot on the forest floor wasn't quite so comfortable as it had seemed to her as a gargoyle, now that she wasn't one any longer. She didn't care.

She closed her eyes, and felt that remembered tug to just let herself go.

She slept.

* * *

Robyn Correy yawned as she stood in line at the deli. She was a few blocks away from the condo where she lived. She hadn't gotten enough sleep last night, she told herself to explain the yawn. And it was true, she hadn't.

She'd gone to bed last night, predictably, wondering where Dominique Destine was, why she hadn't called her, and thinking about Adriana Estrada and the... moment they'd shared.

Adriana was just... Her heart went out to her, and she couldn't seem to help but wanting to find out more about her troubles. Dominique and Adriana had made a good couple, as far as she'd been able to tell... and, in the aftermath, it had been plain to see that Dominique felt guilty over the way she'd ended things between them. Which, yes, was about typical for Dominique. The woman tried but... ah, well, she supposed she shouldn't be surprised a thousand year old gargoyle in human seeming would have, shall it be said, certain difficulties in relating to other people—perhaps even to her own kind. And yes, she'd spotted early on that Adriana _was_ one of Dominique's kind. She'd never had any real proof of it, she supposed, but she would be surprised if she were wrong on the matter.

And wasn't _that_ a question? Just how many gargoyles were there in the world nowadays exactly, and could they all take on human appearance that way? She'd yet to find _that_ particular secret out, had she? Some spy she was turning out to be. The whole tangle she was living was downright depressing to think about at times.

In any case, when Adriana had left after she and Dominique had broken up, when Robyn hadn't heard back from her after repeated attempts, she'd thought, _okay, message received_, and let it go...

What message had Adriana been giving her last night though?

She wondered... and was oddly confused on the matter.

Dominique was still missing. She'd checked, and despite what had happened at the Eyrie, David Xanatos was still alive. She'd heard from Jason that he was working a lead John had gotten for him, and he'd urged her again to step up her own supposed investigations. She wasn't going to, of course. She was too busy being hungry and being worried for Dominique's safety to even consider any of that nonsense at the moment, despite John's words last night.

She was worried about Adriana too. She hadn't heard back from her yet. What was she doing now? Should she call her?

The line moved. _Roast beef sandwich_, she thought. _Yummy, delicious roast beef sandwich. With lettuce, tomatoes, mustard, and relish on rye bread..._

It was the simple things, you know? Some days, it really, truly was. She needed food, and food was good... She'd call Adriana once she had at least a _partly_ full stomach. It wasn't as though she could really do anything about any of this with a phone call anyway, though she wished she at least knew what was really going on... She wished she could bloody well punch David Xanatos in the face too, but, alas...

She needed coffee too, she considered... _A mocha_! A mocha was just what she needed right about now, really it was.

She hummed to herself thinking about it, deliberately putting everything else out of her mind for the moment.

A roast beef sandwich and a mocha... She looked at the selections in the glass case. And an orange. She wanted and orange too. Maybe two. She could take one with her and eat it later.

The line moved.

She took out her cellular phone and scrolled through the missed calls log again, selecting another one and listening to the corresponding voice mail while she waited. It was Havier Ortega. She'd had a conference call with him and Turquesa Marquez late last night about a shipping hold up off the coast of Honduras. The shipment had contained some sensitive materials, so, given the alert, it had been a source of concern for them. She and Turquesa had stayed on the line to talk further after Havier had hung up with them. Turquesa had been plainly worried, even if she hadn't explicitly said quite as much. Robyn wondered if she'd been trying to contact Dominique herself as well, with as little luck? She wondered how it worked with them. She knew Dominique had a small clan of her kind living with her in that mansion of hers. She didn't know their numbers for sure, or all so much about any of them when you came down to it, but she knew they were there and she knew _some_ things. Wouldn't one of them have let Turquesa know something if she were one of them too? She'd assumed she was, but... well, they'd been focusing their investigations much more here than in Guatemala. She supposed that might have been an oversight on their part... Not that she wanted to move to Central America herself, mind you, so, yeah, she wasn't about to bring the topic up with her brothers anytime soon. Not that it would be a bad place to live, but... she had a life here.

She let out a breath in relief as the voicemail ended. Havier, bless his good heart, had only been calling to let her know the matter was resolved.

The line moved again and it was her turn. She eagerly placed her order, took her two oranges, then got out of the way so she could wait for her mocha and sandwich. She watched longingly from a distance as her sandwich was made. This place was like the Subway chain that way, and made your food while you watched—good marketing because it built trust, but it was good for building the anticipation and the hunger too.

She hummed to herself, thinking about the mocha then, and then thinking about what she would say when she called Adriana Estrada. Would she meet up with her again if she asked? Would she let her help?

One of the two women (read: angels from heaven above) who were making the coffee called her name and she went over to receive her mocha, and her sandwich, which had also been passed over for her. She thanked the angel from heaven above gratefully. Her phone rang as she was turning around and she hurried to find a table to set her sandwich, mocha, and two oranges down so she could open her phone, accept the call, and bring the phone up to her ear to answer it. "Hello?" She asked distractedly.

"Hi Robyn." Dominique answered fondly, hearing the rushed and distracted tone of her friend/employee's voice.

"Dominique?" She questioned, elated relief flooding her body. This tight ball of stress and worry inside her that had been steadily growing, suddenly unraveled and she felt like she could really _breathe_ again.

"Afraid so. Sorry, were you expecting someone more entertaining?" She asked, unable to help herself from teasing her a little. After her conversation with Lockland and her worries over Tatiana's possible involvement in the recent troubles, Robyn's familiar, friendly voice was a welcome relief, to be sure.

Robyn laughed, a bit lightheaded from feeling so happy all of the sudden. "No, never." She told her. "Just... Little thing though: Where are you, and just what exactly the heck is going on?"

Dominique sighed. "Form what Adriana tells me, you already know a part of it." That Robyn had done that, gone looking for her, it meant a lot. "David Xanatos sent mercenaries after me last night. You came perilously close to being left to live your life without my gentle good cheer to see you through your days, actually."

Robyn closed her eyes and felt a headache abruptly start, the joy replaced by worry again, and the remembered helpless feeling this had all given her. "Are you alright?" She asked. Feeling again her lack of enough sleep, she was all the sudden nearly sick to her still empty stomach. Oh, she knew well enough that Dominique could take care of herself—she was the bloody _Demon_ after all. Her own family going back more generations than she'd care to think about at the moment had tried their level best to be the death of her all those many years, and, so far as she knew, none of them had ever managed to do much more than be a _bother_ to her. By rights, she shouldn't be worried... but she was. Of course she was. Her ancestors living in the hereafter were probably at the business of disowning her at this very moment... in the unlikely event that they all hadn't done so already, that was.

"In fact I am." Dominique replied. "A... rather heroic police officer happened to come by and rescue me in the nick of time. I... actually spent the night with her last night, if you'd be interested to know." She told her, that last part spoken softly. She hadn't intended to get into all things Elisa Maza with Robyn over this call, but she'd done it anyway, apparently...

"You... Wait, come again?" Robyn asked. And, alright, so yes—she had not at all seen that segue in the conversation coming. At all. Bright side though: Her sudden-onset headache was gone.

"I... spent the night with her." Dominique told her.

"Okay, so I realize I should be asking more about David Xanatos and all things surely very serious and dire, but when you say spent the night _with_ her, do you mean...?" She asked the leading question. Some things one just did _not_ wait to find out until later.

"No..." Dominique admitted softly.

"Oh, well that's-"

"I did, however... spend a good deal of the morning with her in that sense, and since... I'm more than... a little worried that, by helping me, she's made herself a target as well, I also seem to have brought her home with me... for safe keeping." Dominique admitted, closing her eyes and leaning back against the headboard of her now righted bed in thought. Truly, she did want to talk this out with someone. Robyn and Una were the two people she talked about these things with... and Robyn was much better at talking about matters of romance. Or, at least Dominique was more comfortable talking with her about them... She didn't know why, exactly. Robyn was hardly any better at romance than she was, to all reports... though, she could guess, that might actually be just precisely the reason for her comfort level. That... and, when she looked at Una and Leo, it was hard at times not to draw unpleasant comparisons between them and her own past relationship with Goliath... which, inevitably led her to thoughts of the son they'd had and lost together...

Robyn paused a moment to take that in, then started giggling. "For her own _protection_, is it?" She asked, teasing her because it was far too precious an opportunity to be passing it up.

"Yes, that's exactly why, actually." Dominique told her, a deeply amused smile coming to her lips unbidden. Robyn's brand of brash, honest joy was very good at eliciting those from her, it seemed. "She did ask me out, on a date. I... well, I think both of us would have preferred that to this." Left unsaid was the complication of her clan, and Obsidiana particularly, of which Dominique had only told her carefully edited narratives of, if even that... though, perhaps... that might change soon? Maybe... Maybe she should even bring Robyn here, as she had Elisa? ...It had seemed unlikely that David would target her, but owing to Lockland's revelations, she could no longer be so sure that David was truly behind this, ultimately. Odin or Quetzalcoatl had too much honor to be a danger to Robyn, she would suspect, but Raven? Oh, he would—he would do just about anything. And Titania? Well, how could she know what Titania would do? She very definitely had never guessed at the punishment Fox's mother had laid on her in the end, had she? No... No, she'd been foolish enough to think of Titania as something perhaps approaching a friend... A trusted ally, at the least—and, in_ that_, she'd certainly been very wrong, hadn't she?

Robyn sighed. And she'd had a very good follow up too, about how she was sure Dominique would be _happy_ to keep this police woman of hers safe and warm in her arms just as long as was needed. But, then, of course: Reality. Assassination. An explosion at the Eyrie Building that she now was even more certain Dominique was behind. If David Xanatos truly had tried to have her killed, of course she'd respond like this. As much good as she was capable of doing in the world, Robyn knew, Dominique had little tolerance for anyone who threatened what was hers—let alone threatened her very _life_... If she even _could_ die, that was. The jury was still out on that one, as far as she knew. "So, what's her name then—this charming, heroic police officer of yours?" She asked.

"...Elisa." Dominique told her softly after a moment's hesitation. "Her name is Elisa Maza."

Robyn smiled at the tone of Dominique's voice. She... wasn't sure she'd ever heard her friend talk about anyone like she'd just done for this Elisa woman... not even Adriana, more's the pity. _Oh, you fancy her alright—you really do_, she thought to herself. "And... David Xanatos? I... take it this is something you'll want referred to Brice?" She asked.

"It... already was." Dominique admitted. Robyn was aware enough of the nature of Brice's activities, if not the specifics, Dominique knew. She... She only didn't like to inflict this side of her business on her. She didn't want to now, either.

"Well then, I suppose that might explain... the event last night, mightn't it?" She offered. "I did check this morning, you know. David Xanatos was last seen, alive and well, fleeing the city... Unless, that is, Brice tried his luck again? It that what you're telling me? That this... this business is done, and the alert can be canceled?"

"No... No, I'm... Afraid not." Dominique told her. It would be so easy to lie, she considered—she'd certainly done it time and time again where Robyn was concerned, hadn't she? ...Maybe it was Elisa's effect on her, or maybe it was the possibility that her time of judgment might be closer at hand than she'd care to think about, but she... just felt too weary of those lies right now to continue them more than she had to. She sighed. "I... I _did_ actually send Brice in though, to... handle the situation. It didn't go as I might have wished. His team, they were killed in a... very savage sort of manner... David still lives. _Brice_ has gone missing... It's... believed that he... that David may _have_ him. David is currently holed up at Xanadu at the moment. I... I don't know what he's going to do next and I've just found out that there may be... more going on here than I'd thought at first. I'm... I'm worried for your safety, Robyn." She confessed.

"...What do you want me to do?" Robyn asked, not liking the sound of this at all.

"...Come to my house, as soon as you can..." Dominique told her, her heart heavy. More than giving away secrets long kept, she wasn't sure she was doing the right thing inflicting all of this on her friend when she might not be in any danger at all. Not to mention... Not to mention the fact that she was more than a little uneasy at the prospect of laying herself bare before someone she'd come to care so much for, and opening herself up to the possibility of... of rejection, or... even hate?

"I... but, you've never, you never invite me over to your house." She told her, rather lamely. So, was this it? Was she to meet Dominique's clan of supposed _monsters_ at last then? How many would she recognize, she wondered, whom she might have met as humans?

"I am now. Will you come?" Dominique asked simply.

"I... I will." Robyn told her, finding she had far more faith in this woman than she perhaps rightly should.

"Good ...I'll see you soon then." Dominique told her, hanging up the line.

Robyn sat there, trying to process this. By... By right, she should be thinking this was a trap—that she'd been discovered or something of the kind. She shouldn't go anywhere _near_ Dominique Destine's mansion. She should be calling her brothers right now and making a plan, talking about contingencies... all that rot. She looked down at her roast beef sandwich with regret though. She... wasn't going to do any of that, was she? No, she was going to take her sandwich and her oranges and her mocha to go and do as Dominique asked her to. If... If for no other reason than she wanted to know. She wanted to find out if this was the time when Dominique, when her friend, finally told her of the secrets she kept. She wondered if, maybe this was even the day when she told Dominique some of hers, too?

Robyn stood up, took a long sip of her mocha, and walked out of the deli to her car, really hoping she was right to be doing this.

Sitting in her car a minute or so later, Robyn sat her purse (with the two small oranges in it) and her sandwich down on her passenger seat. She took another sip of her mocha and considered a moment. Making a decision, she sat the mocha down in her car's cup holder and retrieved her cellular phone from her purse again, dialing Adriana's number.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	29. Lift You Up

**Daylight... Part 7: Lift You Up**

* * *

Asleep, dreaming of being lost in the rainforests of her homeland with nowhere to go and nothing to do but wander, Obsidiana heard something. Her cellular phone ringing. Groggily, she blinked her eyes open and sat up, feeling her human body's aches with marked dissatisfaction. She looked around her and it all came back—just how ashamed she felt of herself... how unworthy she seemed to be in the eyes of the woman she loved.

The phone kept ringing and, almost thoughtlessly, she dug it out of her pocket and answered it. "Hello?" She spoke, her voice tired and a little cracked from sleep and crying.

"Um, hi Adriana..." Robyn's hesitant, friendly voice came through the line.

"...Robyn?" Obsidiana questioned. Robyn Correy seemed so out of place in this setting... but, then, they were both human at the moment, weren't they? She supposed it made for a certain kind of oblique symmetry?

"Yeah, it's me. Listen... I just- I wanted to call you." Robyn told her.

"I..." Obsidiana considered. "I'm... glad. It's... It's good to hear your voice, actually." She admitted in a voice that sounded small even to her own ears. She shouldn't say things like that to a human, she told herself—she shouldn't have last night, and she shouldn't now. She shouldn't be friends with a human either. They... They weren't trustworthy. Hadn't she learned that well enough by now? By all rights, she certainly _should_ have, at least. She... did trust Robyn though, she found. To an extent she did, at any rate—and she had felt that way almost from the beginning, she recalled. It had been disconcerting then, it had been disconcerting all over again last night, and it was no less so now. But it was true—she _was_ glad to hear Robyn's voice now. Somehow, it actually... managed to make her feel better. So yes, Obsidiana found that she was glad Robyn had thought to call her, and she was glad to hear her voice too.

"It is, huh?" Robyn had to smile, pleased.

"Yes... I- but why are you...? Why are you calling me though?" Obsidiana asked, her mind still not fully awake, she realized.

"Well, that's the thing: Dominique just called me, and I, well, she's home and... I just wanted to make sure... that you knew, and that you were all right, I guess." Robyn admitted.

"I am... I did." Obsidiana told her.

"Are you okay...?" Robyn asked with gentle entreaty, thinking about what Adriana must be going through, with Dominique in the arms of another woman and all. Not to mention that she and her kind were currently under threat, as well.

"...Not really." Obsidiana had to admit, the admission itself actually feeling like a relief to make.

"Where are you?" Robyn asked. "Dominique, well, she wants me to come over to her house... She's worried about my safety, I just-"

"I'm here." Obsidiana interrupted. "_There_, I mean... I'm there. I'll..." Then her mind caught up with her words and she realized what Robyn had said. She was coming _here_? Humans... Humans were _never_ allowed here. Never. There was the occasional prearranged delivery or such, yes, but that was always carefully managed—this... Was Dominique really trusting Robyn Correy this far... or, was she worried about her that _much_...?

"Good." Robyn told her, relieved. "And just... I know it had to..." She thought about offering her comfort over, er, well, over the fact of this Elisa Maza woman Dominique had told her about, but saying it over the telephone just didn't seem like the thing to do. "Look, I'll be there soon. We can talk, okay?" She asked.

Obsidiana found she was smiling to herself a little as she leaned back to sit against a tree. "Okay. I'll... I'll be here, I guess..." She agreed, feeling a little helpless about the whole thing. She felt like she should, she didn't know, warn her about... What? That she was heading towards a gargoyle clanhold? She had no idea how she'd even say that, and no real desire to put herself in that position. This was Dominique's doing, whether it was wise or not, and she'd leave dealing with it to her. "Just... I'm... I'm glad you're my friend, Robyn. I want to be- I-... Just... remember that, alright?" She asked softly.

Robyn smiled to herself. "I will. Promise." She told her, knowing full well why Adriana had said what she had. That confirmed for certain she was a gargoyle too alright, she thought as she hung up the line.

"Robyn?" Obsidiana asked softly, realizing that the call had ended the moment after she'd spoken.

She sat the phone down on the ground and looked up at the sun shining through the canopy of trees. She smiled, just a little, and let her thoughts drift away. Sometimes, she found, it really helped to simply... not think for a while.

* * *

Leo patted Aslan's head. "Guard them well, brother." He told him fondly.

Aslan woofed a bit to let Leo know that he understood.

Leo looked up to see Lunette still standing near, her attention on him. The other children had gone off to be about the things children are about. Their eyes met. "I should know." She told him.

He sighed. "As I've said, our leader has returned. She has... brought a guest with her." Leo admitted softly, not wanting the others to overhear. But Lunette was correct. She was the eldest, and she should know these things. "A... human."

Lunette tilted her head to the side questioningly. "A human? Here? As a guest?" She asked. "...Really?" She asked.

"It would appear so, yes." He admitted. "I'm sure there's more to this story, but I cannot believe that Dominique would have brought her here to us as she has if she were a danger to us. Not knowingly, at any rate." He allowed, privately still not quite believing that she had done so _at all_. "I'll soon get to the bottom of this business though, don't you worry on that score." He told her, placing a hand on her head and mussing her hair a bit.

Lunette laughed as she always did. "Stop that." She told him affectionately when he'd already stopped.

Leo smiled. "Your wish, my command, my lady." He told her.

"So, um, do you think we'll get to meet her then? The human?" Lunette asked, feeling partly hopeful, partly nervous, and partly afraid at the thought. She'd gone out among the humans more times than she'd remembered to count by now, and found them _fascinating_, but always she'd been disguised as one of them. She'd never... She'd fancied what it would be like, how she'd be received, if they knew. She had a human friend she saw sometimes. Mia Donovan. She wanted to think Mia, at least, would accept her—accept her clan—if she knew. She'd heard the stories though, and she knew those stories were why they were being put away here in the safe room now. Because they were precious to the adults... both for who they were, and what they represented—the future of their race.

"...You may just." Leo had to admit, because, well, as things stood, he really didn't know all that much, now did he? "We'll have to wait and see, I suppose." Still, he didn't like this. No, he didn't like this at all, and he really had no fit idea what Dominique could possibly be thinking. As he'd said to Lunette though, he'd just have to find out, wouldn't he?

"Okay." She told him. "Leo...?" She asked as he stood. He was so impressive looking, Lunette had always thought so. Like a hero from a storybook.

"Yes?" Leo asked.

"Just... remember that you're important too, alright?" She asked as a way of telling him to be safe.

"I promise." He smiled, turning to go. He took a last look around the space. It was a taller room than the great room or the arboretum, recessed down into the floor as it was to give the children space. They'd done their level best to make the room a truly fit place for them, but, alas, Leo knew they all wished they could provide better. Space to spread their wings and roam as they liked, to live a life without fear... Someday, perhaps... If Dominique had her way.

Walking into the great room, the door closing behind him, Leo saw Vercinix sitting at his console, doing his duty in keeping an eye on things for them. "Any news?" Leo asked. When Dominique had come home with a human in her company, both he and Vercinix had agreed that it would be best to get the children tucked away. While he'd done that, Vercinix had stayed at his station.

"It seem I may have..." He furrowed his brow, trying to think of the right word. "Gone fast to an answer?" He ventured

"Rushed to judgement, you mean?" Leo asked.

"Yes, that." Vercinix sighed. He'd watched on the security camera as the human had kissed Dominique's bracelet and become gargoyle. "She is not a human after all." He told his brother as Leo came over and looked over his shoulder at his wife, Griff, Dominique, and a gargoyle he didn't recognize entering the mansion house.

"No, she certainly isn't, is she?" Leo asked, his interest well and truly peaked. "Can you give us a closer look at her then?" He questioned further, resting a hand on his brother's shoulder as he leaned in to get a better look.

"Yes, easily I can." Vercinix agreed, using the apparatus to roll back the footage on the second screen to a likely point and zoom in. "Do you recognize her?" He asked Leo, knowing that if any of them would, that it would be Leo. He and his wife had visited the Guatemalan clan for months once, and he'd made it a point to meet and talk with everyone. Leo remembered every face, every name, and communicated with a number of them by telephone regularly. It was something that mattered to him greatly—after losing his own clan as he and his wife had, Griff included for a long time, how could such a thing not be? Vercinix knew of Dominique's continued searching for more survivors of their kind, and he knew too that Leo often passed his time in researching historical record to aid her in the effort. Just the other day, in fact, Leo had been excited by a mention he'd come across in Japanese folklore that he'd found particularly promising. He had to be wondering if this newcomer were of Guatemalan stock, or if she could be from a new clan Dominique had discovered somehow? Vercinix only wished he could be so hopeful for the future as that. They had all lost so much though, he didn't know how Griff or Leo could see past that as they did.

Leo took a few long moments to study the image, and a smile slowly came to his lips as he did. "No... No, I dare say I've never set eyes on that woman in my life. Ha!" He felt himself braking out into a wide grin. "A new face, finally—and a new hope beside. What does your dower mood say to that, brother?" Leo challenged, all the sudden reminding Vercinix very much of Griff.

Vercinix had to smile, just a little, and shake his head side to side one time. "I say that I do hope that it is so. Very much, I do."

Leo shook his head and bushed his knuckles over Vercinix's cheek affectionately. "Have faith, brother. Sometimes, when you least expect, life does show you the miraculous." He told him, gazing into his brother's eyes to convey his sincerity. It was true, after all—and Dominique had a proven track record in such matters. Both Griff and Vercinix were living proof.

Vercinix brought a hand up to cover Leo's and clasp and hold it in his. "May it be this day." He said, dearly wishing that his brother's hopes would be fulfilled, if for no other reason than he would hate to see the disappointment in his eyes were they not.

"May it be." Leo agreed as Vercinix let go of his hand and they both turned to watch what was happening through the security feeds. When they looked back, Dominique was bounding off towards the fountain, leaving the newcomer alone with Una.

"Where'd Griff and Ana go?" Leo asked.

"As though I ever know." Vercinix commented ruefully.

"Married life, brother. Married life." Leo told him with understanding. He himself did not always so much care for all the secrets Dominique and his wife seemed to keep, how thick as thieves the two of them tended to get much of the time running things, but it was what it was and it wasn't his place to tell them any different. Even if Una wasn't the clan second as she was, the confidences she chose to keep weren't something he had a right to gainsay.

Vercinix sighed. "So it seem."

"They're coming up towards us now, it looks like." Leo observed. "I think I'll just go meet them."

"Fine." Vercinix agreed.

Leo patted him on the shoulder and left.

After he left, Vercinix used the cameras to look for Griff. He found him some moments later coming back into the lobby, Obsidiana nowhere to be seen. From this, he concluded that their sister wanted to spend some time with the trees alone. He'd seen the kiss, and that it... hadn't been welcomed. His heart had sank for her, seeing it. That had been when Leo had come in, and Vercinix hadn't seen where she and Griff had gone, but he'd had a guess. He simply hadn't wanted to tell Leo of it, wanting to give Obsidiana what privacy he could, knowing that she didn't like to be the subject of talk so much. Something else they had in common, he supposed. He wished he could glide down to Griff's side, in fact. His duty, for now though, was here.

* * *

Elisa and Una were coming up the stairs. Una smiled fondly and shook her head. "I can understand why you'd think that, but no, it's not what you think at all. We were actually all three of us of an age once." Una told Elisa, who'd just asked after Griff. Elisa had commented, off-hand, that he looked younger than she and Leo were, so Elisa had asked the obvious question: Was Griff an orphan, and did she and Leo raise him?

"The same age...? You know, I've been meaning to ask that. How long do gargoyles live?" Elisa asked. "I mean, Dominique told me she's over a thousand years old. If, um, if the streaks of white are any indication, then-"

Una laughed. "How ancient am I? Is that what you want to know?" She asked, amused, as they came up to the third floor landing and she noticed Elisa looking at the room around them and seeing that there weren't any more stairs, just three doors. "Another of our security measures." She explained to her.

"So the stairs are in another room?" Elisa asked.

"No, I'm afraid there aren't any more stairs from here." Una explained, walking across the room. "And, as to your other question... Dominique is a special case, and, actually, she's much older than I am. Than any of our kind... at least in terms of years lived. Certainly, as you noted, she doesn't so much look her own age." She told her, not completely comfortable telling this to this newly made gargoyle and former human. She found she was doing so anyway, however. Elisa just seemed to have something about her, some sure, peaceful quality that made Una want to trust her. "Security access: Una. _Things never happen the same way twice, dear one._" She spoke to the receiver next to the door in front of them.

"They don't, huh?" Elisa smiled as the door unlocked and Una opened it.

"Not in my experience, no." Una smiled back to her. "It's a quote actually, from a character in a book. A lion, named Aslan."

"The one your dog's named after, you mean?" Elisa remembered.

Una nodded. "Lunette named him that..." She trailed off. "As for Griff," she changed the subject "it's something of a long story. I..." She trailed off again, as she noticed Elisa looking ahead of them to the wind funnel chamber ahead of them. Una smiled. "As I said: A security measure, I'm afraid." She told her, reaching out a hand to Elisa in offer.

"...Well, nothing like a little on the job training, they say..." Elisa allowed, stepping forward and taking Una's hand, accepting the challenge. As they stepped through the door, Elisa unfurled her new wings. Una closed the door behind them and led her over to the funnel.

"Hold your wings out like this." Una let go of Elisa's hand and demonstrated the correct positioning for this. "Bend forward a bit, as so, then simply step off. You shouldn't have to do much, just let the funnel do the work for you and trust. I'll have you go first, so I'll be there to catch you if you run into trouble. Worst comes to worse, there's a net a little ways down."

"Got it." Elisa nodded and swallowed, a nervous smile coming to her lips. Despite that this was a little nerve-wracking, she had to admit she was excited about doing this too. She positioned her wings and felt a surge of yearning anticipation. She wanted this, she realized all over again—she wanted to use her wings. "Here I go." She said, stepping forward into the air.

She gasped as the wind filled her wings, laughing for joy and looking up as she was carried aloft. "I'm really doing it." She said under her breath to herself. As she looked up though, she saw a regal man who looked as much like a lion as Una had a unicorn, or Griff a griffon. He was waiting for her.

He smiled to her. "Well, hello to you too." He greeted, smiling and holding out a hand to her in invitation when she wobbled a little in the air, caught off guard by him.

She reached out and gratefully took the offered hand, letting herself be pulled in. She felt the letdown as the wind let her go and she found herself dropped forward into Leo's arms. "Um, hi." She told him, feeling a little shaky, but offering him a brave and grateful smile nonetheless, stepping back out of his arms. "I'm... I'm Elisa, by the way. Elisa Maza. I um, I take it you're Leo?" She asked, though she sincerely doubted anyone else could fit the name more than this guy did.

"In fact, I am." He confirmed, putting his hands on her shoulders as she fluttered out her wings to settle them into an alert but folded in to walk kind of positioning. "And, can I say: It's a genuine pleasure to meet you, Elisa?" He wondered at the surname, but, then, he supposed that her clan may well have adopted them, whereas his, Dominique's, and Obsidiana's hadn't. It might even, he considered, be a very good sign. Humans used surnames, after all, to distinguish between a population that was large enough that unique singular names were no longer practical. Could Elisa's clan possibly be so large? Or had they simply become so acclimated to the human world in some fashion? Had the humans in her part of the world truly accepted a clan of gargoyles to that extent? It was hard to credit, but, as he'd told Vercinix, that didn't necessarily discount the possibility of it being true, now did it?

Beside them, Una alighted down in graceful fashion and Leo let Elisa go to sweep his wife up in a joyous hug. Una laughed as kissed him meaningfully as he sat her down. "What wonder have you brought with you, my love? You must tell me." He asked her, looking from Una to a smiling Elisa.

They made quite a striking couple, Elisa had to admit. Like something out of a fairytale. They seemed so completely at ease together too. It was nice.

Una's heart fell a little. She knew what this was—that Leo thought Elisa's presence meant the discovery of another clan in the world. She cast her gaze downward. "Oh, love... I'm so sorry, I should have thought-" She let out a breath and met his gaze. "Elisa, she's... She was human. Dominique, she... I've not told you this before, because, well, at any rate, I haven't—but the bracelets, they can also be used to- to transform a human into... one of our kind." She told him.

Leo's expression became first incredulous, then partly closed off. He backed away from his wife a step and looked from her to Elisa, looking at Elisa with an intensiveness that had been lacking before, as though he were trying to reconcile this in his mind. "Human..." He spoke, shaking his head. "I... hardly know what to say to that." He admitted, looking to his wife and letting out a breath. "More secrets, is it?" He asked.

"I-" Una started.

"No- Just... No, Una. I understand it's your right, yours and hers. She's the leader, you're her second—but this?" He questioned with a low almost hissed intensity. "This?" He asked again, shaking his head. "How could you keep something like this from us? From me?" He asked, again looking to Elisa and back to Una.

Una shook her head. "For the very reason you're reacting this way. You? The others? If you knew, how... How soon would you want to try doing it for yourselves? Try to find a human you could trust, and see what came of it? What do you suppose would happen if that went wrong, love? Can you imagine? It... It could be the end of us, Leo—all too easily, it could be."

"...What about her then?" He asked her softly, seeming to relax a little. "If it's so... Then what about her, Una?"

Una shook her head again. "Dominique's decision. As you said: Her right." Una told him. "And her decision wasn't made without good reason... and having met Elisa? Having talked with her? I... honestly can't say I think she made a bad choice."

Leo looked at her, then over to Elisa who'd remained silent up until now. "Fine then..." He said, looking at the former human with a strange mix of longing, betrayal, and some newly awakened mistrust. "I guess we'll just have to see then, won't we?"

"I... guess we will." Elisa replied, meeting his eyes and trying to say with her sure, calm manner and voice that she wasn't a threat to him, or to anything or anyone he held dear. It was a tactic she used often as a police officer, and a lesson she'd learned early on: People responded to what they were given. If you wanted calm, even wanted trust, you had to give it first.

Leo nodded to her.

"Love, I know this-" Una started.

"No- No... You'll... You need to give me some time with this, alright?" Leo asked.

Una felt somewhat crestfallen at that, but she had to admit it was a reasonable thing to ask for. "Very well." She told him gently. She gazed into his eyes and he gazed back for a few long moments, before he looked away.

"Well, come along then." He told Elisa a little gruffly, meeting her regard a moment and then turning to stalk off.

"I um, I guess we follow?" Elisa asked, offering Una a commiserative smile, holding out a hand to her.

"I'd say that's about the size of it, yes." She admitted, actually feeling a little better from Elisa's smile to her. That was a gift, she considered as she took Elisa's hand and walked with her, the both of them draping their wings about them.

Before they could follow more than a few steps though, they noticed Griff arriving behind them and stopped short.

"What'd I miss?" Griff asked, alighting on the floor.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	30. Make A Change, You Change It All

**Daylight... Part 8: Make A Change, You Change It All**

* * *

Upstairs, Leo entered. "Oh, you aren't going to believe what I've got to tell you." He told Vercinix.

"I already do believe." Vercinix replied. "I listened all." And he fully intended to have words with Dominique about all of it at the soonest possible opportunity. He wouldn't have to use the damned English with her, so he'd be able to make himself very well understood.

"Through the security cameras." Una explained to Elisa as she, Elisa, and Griff entered the great room following Leo.

"Ah." She understood, letting go of Una's hand and walking forward to meet Vercinix's regard. "Are we, um, are we going to have a problem then?" Elisa asked him, meeting his gaze steadily, but offering no challenge. She was nervous about doing it—Vercinix was a big guy, bigger than Leo, and even more imposing somehow—but she felt it was the right thing.

"That is your choice. Be wise." He told her, turning from her to go back to his watch.

"Okay..." Elisa said as Una and Griff came up on either side of her. "That was kind of anticlimactic, wasn't it?" She observed.

Griff patted her on the shoulder. "Give us time, Elisa. Show us your honor, and we'll give you ours. Give us your trust, and we'll give ours." He said, walking past her to go see to his grumpy husband. Maybe he could convince Leo to take a turn at the watch station and tempt Vercinix off to the arboretum for a little peace and time to talk, or even to their bedroom for a _different_ sort of relief? He looked as though he could use either about now... Maybe they both could.

"So, um, how about that phone call?" Elisa asked Una, finding herself standing alone in the room with her, Leo having disappeared down a hallway, Griff and Vercinix at the watch station talking amongst themselves.

Una gave her a smile and offered her hand again. "I'll take you to a phone you can use."

"Thanks." Elisa said, taking Una's hand and following her back downstairs.

* * *

"Come on." Griff said, offering his trademark lighthearted smile and pulling his husband along with him into the arboretum.

Vercinix went along gamefully, his heart lighter by the moment. Griff pulled him close and snuggled into him, nuzzling his cheek against his and giving his ear a playful nip. Vercinix drew in a breath and let it out, letting some of the tension go. Griff had tried to seduce him into going down to their bed chambers for a time, and, at the moment, he was perhaps regretting that he hadn't let himself accept the invitation. They were under threat though, and they all needed to keep their wits about them, he'd told himself.

Griff smiled to himself, running a hand over his husband's thigh and closing his eyes. He rested his other hand around back his shoulder. His heart still raced when they got close like this. It was magic, was what it was—the best magic in the world. He stepped back then, trailing his hand down Vercinix's arm and taking his hand again a moment, tugging him a few paces back towards the door. He let go then. "Wait, just a bit." He temporized, turning to go over to the sound system controls by the door.

Vercinix smiled, bemused and watching him. Griff was one for romantic gestures, he was. After a moment, the soft instrumental music started, coming from all around them. Vercinix smiled to his husband and offered a hand out as Griff returned to him.

Griff took the offered hand and went with his husband to the arboretum's center court, where the two fell into step with one another and began to dance.

It was a song that was old when he'd been young, Vercinix noticed with appreciation, knowing Griff had selected it for just that reason. He closed his eyes and moved closer in, against his dance partner.

They danced the song all the way through.

A second, similar song began, and, around the song's midpoint, when the tempo began to slow, they began to slow their steps as well, until they'd stopped altogether. Griff stepped back, cupping Vercinix's cheek in one hand. "You aren't happy here." He told him solemnly. "You think I don't see it, but I do." He'd been noticing it, more and more. He'd been confronting him about it on and off of late—not so directly as he was now, but in his way nonetheless. Now just seemed like a day for getting things out in the open, though. For one thing, after a long period of relative peace for their clan, they now found themselves quite possibly on the eve of battle once more... He'd gone through a few of those before. They always tended to make a soul more open about their insecurities and such, didn't they? More open with their hearts?

Vercinix smiled a little sadly, realizing in the moment that he obviously hadn't been as skilled at keeping his feelings about this from his husband as he'd thought himself to have been. "It is not so terrible." He offered. "The least in all, when I am in your arms."

"Yeah... well, likewise on that score..." Griff offered with something of a quirked smile.

Vercinix lowered his gaze from Griff's, letting go his hands and turning to walk away, looking at the green around them. They called this an arboretum, but, more accurately, it was _Obsidiana's_ arboretum... Her piece of home in a foreign land. Grown, tended, and cared for by her own hand. "I am like this place." He admitted, turning back to Griff. "More than I like it, I am." He offered what explanation he could think to give. It was true: Like this patch of an ancient green land, so different from the one in which they now lived, he'd been transplanted here from a far off world. He had his clan and he had Griff, as this place had Obsidiana and what Obsidiana provided for it. Without their sanctuaries though, would either of them long survive?

"Yeah... Yeah, maybe in some ways, you are." Griff acknowledged, following over to where his husband stood, but not touching him. He needed space to think, to talk. Griff could respect that. "One difference though, is I can ask you a question and you can tell me an answer, if you want?" He offered in return, tilting his head a little in question.

Vercinix smiled in wry acknowledgement, and in ascent. "I am... dower at times, I know that it is so." He admitted. "Ask your question of me?"

"...Alright then... What would make you happy, love?" He asked.

Vercinix shook his head. "A better world?" He offered.

Griff smiled, sympathetically. "Yeah... That's the goal, isn't it?" He agreed, moving forward to lay hands on his husband's shoulders. "But I mean, really: Right here, right now, or tomorrow or the next day, or the day after this mess with David Xanatos is said and done... what would make you happy?" He asked.

"...Other than you?" Vercinix asked, regret in his voice as he touched his husband's face in a caress.

"You'll _always_ have me." Griff told him. "What else?"

Vercinix sighed. "Selfish, clashing things, I think. And things I cannot have." He admitted.

"So... tell me?" Griff asked. "Even if not a one of them can be had, I still want to know."

Vercinix was silent for a few long moments, thinking, then trying to wrestle the words into their right orderings. Griff was patient, thankfully, and waited for him to meet his eyes once more. Vercinix let out a breath and did just that. "Open skies, large clan, our children safe, you happy, your clan close, my sister returns to me, no humans surround us, and still... a better world." He admitted, feeling selfish for doing so.

"...Guatemala then..." Griff finally realized, smiling a little ruefully to himself for not having guessed before this. "You want to go live in Guatemala, but you don't want to do it if it means I have to be separated from Leo and Una... like what happened with Mendela. You don't want to do to Leo and Una what Titania did to you."

"I... do not." Vercinix admitted. "You are... You have guessed me right." He confirmed. "I do believe in our leader's work. I... do not wish to leave our clan, but..."

"But, at the same time, you do?" Griff offered.

"...Yes." Vercinix accepted reluctantly.

Griff tried to hide something of a smirk that threatened at the edges of his lips at how endearing his husband could be when flummoxed. This was a serious matter though. "...I think I would, you know...? Try Guatemala, I mean? ...If it's what you wanted?" He confessed.

"...I thought that it could be so." Vercinix admitted, touched that it truly was. "The same, I will never ask it."

"I know." Griff told him, moving in to encircle his husband in his arms, the two of them falling silent as the music played and they held each other and thought. They hadn't talked about recent developments, Griff knew, and he didn't rightly know what they'd do about this that they _had_ talked about, but, all the same, it was only to the good to have it finally spoken aloud and in the open between them.

Maybe it had helped matters some, and maybe now they'd find their way that much more?

* * *

Meanwhile, several blocks from Elisa's rooftop walkup, in a third floor studio apartment, a phone rang. It rang a few times, really, before Rebecca Montague managed to wake herself up enough to blurrily stumble off the couch where she'd unintentionally fallen asleep she didn't know how long ago now and make her way to the counter in her small kitchen where her telephone was. The answering machine had already picked up the call, but, hoping that it might be Elisa, she interrupted the recorded message and picked up phone's handset.

"Hello? This is Becca?" She greeted, trying to kickstart her mental processes a little more. For a nurse, she knew, her zero-to-full-wakefulness time was, well... kind of a disgrace, really. She'd been teased for it sometimes.

"Hi." Elisa's soft, understanding voice came over the line. "I caught you napping again, didn't I?"

Becca smiled to herself, feeling happy. Elisa usually could make her feel happy like that. The hoped-for voice also had her mind clearing that much faster too. "Yeah, you did, but it's okay. I'm, um, I'm really glad you called, actually." She admitted.

Elisa sighed. "Yeah, I am too. You're doing okay though? I know last night was a rough one."

"No- Well, it was, yeah. Always is, anytime you lose one, I don't have to tell you." She said. "But no. You know, today's another day and all that." She told her, smiling to herself, actually hopeful. "I was... I was kind of thinking I'd call you up though. Ask if you wanted to go out tonight? You've got the day off, I assume. You better anyway."

Elisa laughed softly. "Day off, yeah. I've got to report in on something I came up against last night, but, uh, I think I kind of have to ask for a raincheck on the night out though. That's kind of why I called, actually. I'm going to be away from home for the next little while, and I was hoping I could ask you to catsit for me?"

"...I- Of course, you know I- um, but out of town, huh?" She asked, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. Elisa didn't need that from her, she knew. "Where're you going?"

Elisa sighed again. "Just... Well, I... met someone yesterday. Kind of one of those out of the blue kinds of things? I was dead on my feet last night, so- but I met up with her again this morning. She um, she travels a lot, and we kind of hit it off. So, since I had the time off, and... she asked me, and I've... been told I need to take chances more, put myself out there more, you know, on a personal level? So, um, I'm trying that." Elisa explained. She wasn't exactly comfortable talking about this with Becca, given their history, but it wasn't the first time this kind of thing had come up between them, for either of them, and neither of them had let that awkwardness come between them yet, so she wasn't about to start now... Even if, things being what they were, she _did_ have to bend the truth a little not to give any of Dominique's secrets away. She didn't feel so great about that, but, well, what else could she really do here?

"Oh, um, right. So, where're you going then?" Becca asked, crestfallen at the news, though she tried her best not to let on—again, Elisa didn't need that from her about this.

"Just up the coast, I think? We might bum around a bit if there's time—maybe play tourist and see the ocean, you know?" She told her. An even _worse_ lie... She really hated lying to Becca like this—it actually had her feeling a little queasy.

"Sounds nice." Becca replied.

"Yeah, it might be." Elisa offered.

"Elisa?" Becca found herself asking.

"Yeah?"

"I just..." She sighed. "Never mind. I'll hold you to that raincheck when you get back though, okay?"

"Sounds good to me." Elisa readily agreed.

"Good." She answered. "And don't worry, Cagney will be well taken care of while you're gone." This could actually be a good thing, Becca tried to convince herself. Elisa had been different lately. Maybe this was just part of the process? Maybe it just... wasn't their time yet? Maybe... well, maybe a lot of things, she supposed. If things were meant to be between them, then it would happen in its own time, right?

"Thanks, Becca, I... just thanks. I'm..." She shook her head. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will. You too, okay?"

"Promise." Elisa told her softly.

"Okay, well... I guess you've got to go now, huh? Be a cop before you can be a bum?" She asked.

Elisa chuckled to her. "Something like that."

"Okay, well, bye then. Love you." She told her.

"Love you too, Beccs." Elisa told her, hanging up the line.

Becca replaced the handset in the phone's cradle and closed her eyes a moment to think. It was a little of a twist to her gut, actually, saying that, having it said. They'd taken to saying it when they'd been together, and somehow ended up making a point to keep saying it even after they'd broken up. The thing was, Becca was starting to think that it was... a lot more true for her than she'd let herself really consider lately.

She resolved to herself that, if she ever had another chance with her, she wouldn't wait, she'd tell her so...

* * *

Elisa looked up to meet Una's eyes and quirked a little of a smile. The picture of her there, sitting on the stone furniture looking all regal and fascinated by her was quite something. She herself was sitting on a hard metal bench. If she were still human, no doubt it would be uncomfortable. As she was now though, it really wasn't in the least. "So, what did you think?" She asked playfully.

"Of what, exactly?" Una asked, returning the smile, amused.

"You know, of my phone call. It looked like you found it um, well, fascinating?" Elisa admitted.

"Would you be surprised if I admitted that I was? Fascinated, that is?" She asked.

Elisa shook her head and stood, stretching a little and fighting a yawn. More of that lethargy from not moving. She really was going to have to learn how to regulate for that, like Una had said. "Not really, I guess. I have to think I'd be kind of a novelty to you."

Una smiled wider. "Doesn't that go both ways though?" She asked, standing too and moving to touch Elisa's face, stroke her hair a little in a fond way. It was amazing to her, really it was, how quickly she'd become so at ease around this woman. She was almost treating her like a sister she'd had for years, actually... and how strange would her own actions seem to Elisa, she wondered? Elisa didn't seem to be reacting very awkwardly to, well, any of this, when Una knew she likely should be. Humans, she'd observed, were much more mistrusting of one another upon a first meeting than one gargoyle would be with another. It was fascinating to her that Elisa was seemingly so accepting of her circumstance, that she could be so brave in the face of the unfamiliar... or, at least, if she truly weren't, she was hiding any insecurities she had very skillfully.

Elisa's quirked smile returned. "Yeah, I guess it really does." She admitted, bringing her hand up to take Una's and hold it in her own. "And... you know, I don't think I've said so yet, but um... Thanks Una—for, well, believing in me." She smiled a little self-effacingly. "I'm not sure what I did to make you think it was a good idea to take a chance on me, but I appreciate it a lot."

Una felt her heart soften all the more for this woman at that, and wanted to embrace her again, but she reminded herself that they really had only just met and that at least some degree of caution on her part might be advised. Dominique's tale of her bravery was one thing, but it didn't mean that she shouldn't strive to be more impartial than she'd been being so far. Leo... wasn't alone in wishing that there were more gargoyles in the world though. Maybe part of it was just that? "I'm not sure what you did either, aside from the obvious matter of the manner in which you and Dominique met, of course, but I... It's not only that you've become one of us in body, Elisa. I... was there, years ago, when we tried this experiment for the first time." Herself, Dominique, Vercinix, and Mendela, back when they'd still been in London. Griff and Leo had stayed back at the shop, and Fox and Wen had been in town, sightseeing. Dominique had _insisted_ that none of them tell the others, not unless it went well. In the end, it very much hadn't. "You seem to me to be... quite an improvement so far."

"What happened?" Elisa asked, curious.

"His name was Duncan Constantine?" Una offered, sitting down again. "Mendela, whom you've not met as she's currently traveling abroad, had met him while human. He'd come to her rescue one night when she'd been out wandering along the waterfront as a human, lost in her thoughts. A man with a knife attempted to... rape her. She might have fought him off on her own, but, well, for good or ill Duncan came around the corner at just the right time. Duncan had been a fisherman, you see. He'd stayed late to help a friend with his boat... They took to spending time together after that, he and Mendela, and he met Vercinix and Dominique at some point. Vercinix came to think of him as something of a friend, in fact, but he and Mendela had become even closer. So Mendela showed herself to him one night, showed him who she truly was, all without telling any of us her intentions beforehand. She... didn't really understand about humans, I think. That most of you, well... She had the idea that the bracelets might work for a human. She and Dominique had talked about it, but Dominique still hadn't made up her mind. Mendela was, that is, she's probably one of the most headstrong individuals I've ever met. Won't listen to anyone once she's made up her mind sometimes. So she offered to him, and he accepted her offer. It worked of course, and he was transformed, much as you have been. Just for a time, you see, then she returned him to his humanity. She confessed to Dominique, Vercinix, and I what she'd done later that night. Dominique... was not pleased about it, but Mendela made her case and Dominique agreed to let it be... an experiment of sorts. So we talked it over with Duncan and that's how it went. At first, things went fine. We were taking it slow. We weren't going to tell the others what we were up to until we could be more sure of things... of him, I should say... Mendela took him gliding one night, just the two of them, didn't tell us she was going. When they landed though, he made advances towards her—kissed her, actually..."

"He didn't...?" Elisa trailed off, swallowing and taking her seat again too.

Una shook her head. "No, not that. I'd like to think things wouldn't have gotten so far if he'd been the type of human to sink quite so low as that. I can't say for certain, of course. Humans are so varied in their morality, like the fae can be."

"Are you saying that... gargoyles aren't?" Elisa asked.

"I am, in fact." Una replied.

"Can you explain that?" Elisa asked.

"I can try." Una told her, actually enjoying that Elisa was so openly inquisitive with her. She was a joy to talk with. "We, gargoyles, do vary in many ways from one of us to another, as you've no doubt noticed by now, but... You know, and perhaps this is one reason why we've so consistently misstepped where the humans are concerned? Because we would have assumed you more predictable than you really were? If you meet a human, what can you say about _other_ humans? Four limbs, you walk on two of them, and not so much more really, when you come down to it. So you'd have to build trust on an individual basis, and that's dangerous—especially because you can't tell if the fact that you can trust a human about one thing means that you can trust them about something else. For a gargoyle, you see, that's just not the case—or very _rarely_ is it the case, at any rate. If you make a friend of one of us, attack one of us, lie to one of us, trust one of us to hold to some principle of morality in a matter, you generally won't get very much variation when dealing with others of our kind. Oh, there might be an exception or two now and then for one reason or another, and life experiences lived certainly do play a part, it's true. A trust betrayed is a trust less freely extended, for example. And obviously we have different personalities, different hearts, different ideas—different perspectives, certainly—but... No gargoyle would ever rape another, none ever has that I'm aware. If we kill, it will always be to protect and defend our own, or to hunt game for food. We... have a set nature, as every other creature of this world does. Startle a dear, and it will run. Threaten a snake and it will rattle its tale. We aren't much different, in many ways. Humans, though—you are."

"...Because Odin made us, you mean?" Elisa asked, feeling struck deeply by the realization and implications of what Una was saying. "And the fae aren't from this world?"

"I think so, yes." Una agreed.

"So, what...? I'm just- What am I? A fluke? Dominique said I was... that I seemed like a I had a lot of gargoyle-like traits. I wouldn't say I'm very... fickle, at any rate. I know a lot of people are. Not all. Still, if you're right, how do you explain all the people, humans, I've met that are so stuck in their ways, then?" She ventured, trying to work through all this in her mind.

Una shook her head a little. "Adopting separate patterns of behavior on an individual basis isn't the same thing as having a steady nature across an entire species." She corrected her, feeling somewhat uncomfortable saying this, worried that Elisa might take it badly. It was the truth as she knew it though, so she wouldn't shy from it. "The fae fall victim to much the same sort of behavior patterns, in fact. It's a standard of behavior only derived from one's own desires. Because of that, in my experience, it's also more easily shattered—more easily made exceptions to. Faced with an event out of the norm, for example, or faced with a choice that comes with heavy consequence, faced with boredom, frustration, or merely a passing whim, a human's unpredictable nature, or a fae's unpredictable nature, will show through time and time again, I've found." Una offered.

"Huh..." Elisa considered, measured it against her own experiences, and wished she could rebut the point. At the moment though, she couldn't see how to. Not that she was convinced Una was necessarily right about... humans. She just couldn't figure out how she might be wrong at the moment. "Still, even if that's true, why me? Why would I be an exception to the rule? Or, was I an exception? Do you think, what, that Dominique just happened to catch me on a good day or something?" She quirked a little of a hapless smile.

Una returned the small smile and shook her head a little again, privately relieved that Elisa hadn't taken offense after all. "I've been considering that very question, actually." She confessed. "You've told me that you and your sister have adopted much of your father's people's beliefs? A respect for nature? Perhaps also... a connection with it?" She ventured.

"Yeah, I guess so." Elisa agreed.

"So, maybe that's where it comes from then?" Una offered. "Think about it: If a human's nature is similar to a fae's—changeable, adaptable—then might that not give you the ability to connect, to empathize, to perhaps even _become_ a thing you wish to become? I've even met a fae once who might prove the point, actually. She lived on an island in British Columbia, and the native humans there called her _Grandmother_. She, Elisa, I would say was very much worthy of trust, and perhaps for the very same reason that you are proving yourself to be: Because, instead of holding herself, yourself, apart from this world—separate, ungrounded—you, and she, have embraced this world, this Earth, as your home?"

Elisa considered. "I... guess that does make a certain kind of sense." She allowed, still not quite sure somehow if she should really believe any of it—not sure she _wanted_ to believe any of it, at any rate.

Una let out a breath. "Apartness is a... peculiar thing, Elisa. Holding one's self apart—whether you'd fancy yourself held above or below—it, by definition, creates distance. Distance creates distrust, because it hinders understanding. It... can also easily foster resentment, because, whether it's true or not, it can also feel like a rejection. Rejection on the part of the one who holds themself apart, surely, but also rejection on the part of the one held apart _from_ for a refusal to change, to close a distance, to meet half way... or even, in the extreme, to change completely. It isn't a fair thing, or a right one. It may be that, for some, it simply... is."

"...Cheerful thought." Elisa observed.

"Isn't it though?" Una quipped. "Thoughts like that, though, are the often unfortunate consequence of reading too much and living through hard times—both afflictions, I'm afraid, that I've quite thoroughly fallen prey to in my time."

"I'm not knocking it." Elisa smiled. "You'll forgive me if I take a while deciding if I should _believe_ any of it or not of course, but I'm not knocking it."

Una laughed. "It really is no wonder she's fallen for you, you know?" Una had to tell her. "You're... a very easy woman to like, Elisa Maza."

Elisa smiled. "You think so?" She asked softly, still not quite able to 100% get past her twelve-year-old girl reaction to this woman. Somewhere inside her, that little girl was no doubt wide-eyed or jumping around saying: _Yay! Yay! The unicorn lady likes me!_

"I do." Una confirmed. "But... I was telling you a story, wasn't I?"

"You were, In fact." Elisa agreed. "But, for the record: You're very easy to like too." She told her.

"...My thanks." Una told her, genuinely touched. In fact, it was the sort of compliment she'd never received before from anyone save Dominique. Others respected her, were impressed by her, or perhaps found her off-putting. Many in her own clan had growing up, in fact—except for Leo and Griff, of course. But, even then, they hadn't exactly thought as much of her on their first meeting, had they? No, she'd ended up proving herself to them by her actions, hadn't she? They'd been her steadfast supporters ever since though... "In any case... we were at the point in the story where Duncan had just stolen a kiss from her, weren't we?"

At Elisa's nod, Una went on. "...As I said, he didn't react as badly as he could have. Though... it did end badly enough, I suppose. His pride was hurt. It seems Mendela had never thought to tell him that most gargoyles tend to seek same-gender partners in romance, and he felt he'd been played false. Mendela tried to comfort him—to remind him what good friends they made. He wouldn't have it though, and asked her to change him back. She did, and that seemed that."

"That doesn't seem so terrible?" Elisa offered.

"If it had ended there, no, it wouldn't have been." Dominique spoke softly as she entered the fourth floor common room Elisa and Dominique had been sharing.

Elisa smiled and got to her feet, going over to her and kissing her because she just wanted to at that moment.

Dominique was a little surprised, but she probably shouldn't have been, as influenced by the sun as Elisa probably was feeling at the moment... and the kiss was far, far from unwelcome. She melted into it and found herself smiling a little shyly by the time it was done.

"So... Hi there." Elisa told her, quirking a smile to her.

"Hello..." Dominique replied, wanting to kiss her again. She had some very vivid memories of doing far more than that this morning running through her mind, and it made her wonder just how doing all of that again with Elisa now would... Elisa made a breathtakingly beautiful gargoyle, Dominique considered all over again.

Elisa bit her lip a little, surprising herself, having forgotten her teeth were sharp. She hadn't drawn blood though. She stared at Dominique's lips... They... had somewhat longer _tongues_ now, she was just considering to herself.

"Elisa?" Dominique asked her, her voice soft and low.

"Hmm?" Elisa asked, moving in and gently kissing her again.

Dominique's eyes fluttered closed and she moaned softly in pleasure. She let the kiss happen for long moments, but then pulled away, breathing hard. "You... have a captain to report to, and..." She trailed off, not quite sure what else to say.

Elisa blinked and mentally shook herself out of it. "Right. Right, sorry about... that." She said, looking into Dominique's eyes again, trying to banish the hunger for this woman that she was feeling.

"Don't be." Dominique told her gently, stroking Elisa's skin at the shoulder and waist where she'd laid her hands. She smiled, letting out a breath and closing her eyes, then taking Elisa by the hand and leading her over to sit with a now thoroughly bemused looking Una. "But, you were in the middle of a story, weren't you? Would you like to hear the rest?" She asked.

"Yeah... I guess maybe I should." Elisa offered, and not just as a way to distract herself from the wanting she felt for Dominique at the moment. Finding out how Duncan's story ended might give her some much-needed insight.

Dominique looked to Una.

Una nodded, smiling to herself a little, thinking privately that Dominique and Elisa did indeed seem to be quite a good match for one another. She was pleased—happy for her long-time friend, and... yes, for Elisa as well. "Yes, well..." She made to continue with her story. "As it turned out, Duncan did return to her, to Mendela, only a few days later... saying that he'd just needed time. Mendela had a place with Vercinix, a flat near the bookshop. She was in human form when he came to her. She welcomed him, relieved. We'd been having him monitored, of course. Taking shifts, waiting until we found out how things would play out. He didn't know that. He... They were talking, sharing an improvised meal, and he slipped something, some drug, into her food or drink. She fell unconscious and he stole her bracelet and made to run away. Vercinix had been the one trailing him, and he found Mendela as Duncan had left her... her breathing shallow. Vercinix... He barely spoke the language at that point, you see, and he had little understanding of what might have been done to her. He tried to use his own bracelet to make a gargoyle of her again, hoping that the transformation might undo whatever Duncan had done to her. It didn't work of course. The bracelet's spell specifically calls for a kiss _freely_ given. A sleeping woman, after all, can't give consent to a kiss."

"What happened?" Elisa asked.

Una sighed. "He left, followed Duncan, intent on shaking answers from him if he had to—intent on having justice. Duncan caught sight of him a few blocks away, gliding over the rooftops. It was on close to dusk at this point. Vercinix ran him to ground behind a small food mart. Landed in front of him, on the shipping dock. Duncan... he brandished a knife. Thankfully, the handgun prohibition back home meant that it was _only_ a knife, and not something worse. Vercinix jumped down, got in close, demanded as best he could with what English he had at that point that Duncan explain himself. Duncan, frightened no doubt, attacked. Stabbed Vercinix in the ribs. I... don't think Vercinix was truly expecting Duncan to do that. He struck back with the back of his hand. He didn't make the conscious decision to put his full strength behind the blow, but he did so nonetheless. The angle was bad. Duncan's neck broke and he was likely dead before his body hit the ground. To this day, we can only really speculate as to _why_ Duncan wanted Mendela's bracelet for his own. We... only know the result."

Elisa offered her a wan smile, snuggling closer to Dominique who'd put her arm around her as Una had finished telling her story. "No wonder he has issues with me. Vercinix, I mean." She told them softly, understanding more about Vercinix's gruff reception now. "This... has to feel personal for him, after something like that." It was clearly Duncan Constantine's fault though, she knew that. No matter his reasons, whatever they'd been, he'd committed a crime, drawn a weapon, and... drawn blood.

"I... could well imagine so, yes." Una allowed. She let out a breath and looked to Dominique. "Any news?" She asked.

Dominique was silent for a long moment and Elisa sat back, regarding her too.

"Too much news, I think." She admitted. "Firstly, we're... going to have another guest soon, as it turns out. A... Another human." This she said to Una.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	31. Fairytales Die Sometimes

**Daylight... Part 9: Fairytales Die Sometimes**

* * *

"...Robyn, you mean?" Una guessed.

Dominique nodded. "I... She might be at risk. I couldn't-"

"Of course you couldn't." Una told her, understanding and sympathizing.

"Who's Robyn?" Elisa asked, curious.

"My friend... She works with me, at my company." She explained, looking to Elisa. "She... doesn't know of course, about all of this. She and Obsidiana were out together last night though, looking for me."

"When's she going to be here?" Elisa asked.

"Very soon." Dominique told her. "I... know that I promised to take you to your station house, but I'm hoping that you'll agree to delay that a while longer? Your perspective may help matters as I... explain myself to her."

"Sure, I can do that." Elisa agreed easily. "Like I said, there isn't a specific time I have to be there today."

"Good." Dominique let out a relieved breath.

"It's not going to go over all that great though, I take it? I mean..." Elisa trailed off, thinking of Vercinix and Leo especially, and of Obsidiana who was still largely an unknown to her.

"No, you're right, it probably isn't." Dominique sighed. "But, needs must."

Elisa smiled. "Are you saying David Xanatos is the devil?" It was the rest of the saying: _Needs must when the devil drives_.

Dominique found herself giggling a little at that. "In this circumstance, I suppose he would have to be, wouldn't he? _Metaphorically_, at any rate." Not that she'd always have thought to put him in that type of category, of course. She took a breath then, and looked to Una. "...Am I doing the right thing, do you think?" She asked, referring back to Robyn, wanting her friend's feedback. She always found it useful to ask Una these things. She didn't always take her friend's advice, but she often did and she found that Una was very good at giving her counterpoint to navigate—_compose_—her important decisions by.

Una shook her head. "Only time can tell, but... having met Robyn, as I've now met Elisa, I do think it's a risk worth taking. At a time when the stakes are so high, in fact, though the risk is greater, you'll have an answer you, we, can better trust." That wasn't to say she was entirely sure this was the right thing, but... She had met Robyn, a number of times, and she'd liked her. Certainly enough that she'd wish to have her protected.

Dominique nodded and looked to Elisa. "...You're protecting a friend. I don't think you can go wrong doing that." She told her simply.

Dominique found herself smiling at that. "Your own introduction here, can I... take it from what you've said that it did not go quite as well as I could have hoped for?" She asked, looking between Una and Elisa as she asked the question.

"It went okay, actually." Elisa offered. "Or, I think it did anyway?" She looked to Una for confirmation.

Una let out a breath. "It did, in fact. Obsidiana is still an unknown..." She admitted uneasily. She very much didn't like the idea that this whole matter might hurt her when she inevitably found out about Elisa and Dominique's newly fledged relationship. _Neither_ did she have all that much confidence in Dominique's ability to deliver the news in anything like a good way. "I think it's safe to assume that she doesn't know of Elisa's true nature yet, or that the two of you have initiated a courtship. You'll need to talk with her, alone." She told Dominique, knowing that, despite how Dominique would likely bumble the whole thing, that Dominique and Obsidiana _both_ needed to face the impasse between them head on if there was ever going to be a hope of healing the rift between them.

Dominique nodded, knowing that Obsidiana wouldn't care for a discussion like that to take place with witnesses. Of course, while she knew Obsidiana's heart well enough to know that she tended to be a private person, she was not nearly so confident that she knew her so well that she'd know the right things to say within the conversation itself. "And... the others?" She asked.

"Leo and Vercinix both know of her now, her circumstance. I... Leo got his hopes up that Elisa could mean that you'd found another clan." Una told her. "Needless to say, he's also not entirely thrilled with _either_ of us for keeping the bracelets' secret from him as we did."

Dominique groaned, cursing herself again for a fool.

"Vercinix is wary, of course. Robyn's appearance will not help matters on that front. Obsidiana, I imagine, will welcome Robyn more readily as they already have a friendship—one just recently renewed, fortunately. Griff? Well," she smiled "Griff is himself. He may not especially like it, but he'll give her a fair chance to sink or swim, I think... I do think it would set everyone's minds at ease though, if we watched her carefully, at least until this mess with David Xanatos is at an end." She looked to Elisa. "I'm afraid that could likewise be said for you as well, Elisa. Would you... be alright with that?"

Elisa shrugged. "Sure. I've got nothing to hide." She didn't, and she _did_ want to earn more trust here.

"Well, that's good then." Una concluded, relieved that Elisa hadn't taken offense. She looked to Dominique then. "I take it, though, that Robyn Correy's imminent arrival isn't the extent of your news?"

"No... Would that she were." Dominique admitted, looking over to Elisa. "None of this you're going to particularly _like_, Elisa, but... one thing, I feel... I have to tell you first, and..." She trailed off, looking away.

Elisa covered Dominique's hand with her own. "Whatever it is, just tell me, okay? We can go from there." She told her, confident that, whatever this was about, it couldn't possibly be as ominous as Dominique was making it out to be.

Dominique nodded and took a breath, not having the courage to look over to Elisa as she said this. "When... you were driving me away from the scene of the attack, you'll remember I asked you to stop so that I could make a phone call. I... called a man who works for me. It's his job to deal with... these kinds of threats. I was... David is, well, as you said, he tried to abduct me, and his men failed to succeed in that. He knew what I would do. That I likely wouldn't—_couldn't_—let him live after that. Not solely for my own sake, but for my clan's as well, whom he could easily choose to target in all of this, who would be left vulnerable without me, and, in truth, for the sake of all those I help in the world. All that could easily collapse if I were to disappear. So I told this man, I gave him permission to do whatever he needed to do to deal with this matter, deal with David, as quickly as possible."

"...What did he do?" Elisa asked, starting to have a bad feeling about where this was going.

Dominique looked over to her then. "I don't mean to abdicate responsibility in this. Lockland—that's his name: Lockland—acted on my behalf, and I can't say I..." She sighed. "He sent assassins to infiltrate the Eyrie building, where David has his primary residence. They failed- Were being killed. Lockland saw it happening from outside... He fired two military-grade rockets into the tower, Elisa."

Elisa gasped, withdrawing her hand from Dominique's.

"The tower, the top floors, were meant to be empty at that time of night. The janitorial staff wasn't scheduled- but one of them was anyway. An innocent man died, Elisa. I'm sorry." She told her.

Elisa met her eyes, but then looked away, getting up and pacing away, crossing her arms in front of her.

Dominique stood too, looking after her, but she didn't say anything right away, wondering if she'd lost this woman even before she'd got to really have a true chance with her.

Elisa tried to think. She... really hadn't seen this coming—at all. Maybe... Maybe she should have, she was realizing, but Dominique had... She had to deal with it, whatever she'd felt, or whatever she was feeling, she knew that much... All the sudden though, this just seemed so... above her paygrade. She wanted to say what Dominique had done was unequivocally wrong, but, she considered guiltily, hadn't she herself... basically told Dominique that she accepted that doing something like this... That she'd understand the necessity? She'd had good reasons for saying that, she still believed she had. The law didn't apply in these circumstances, that's what she's said. Well? So... things obviously hadn't turned out like she'd thought they would when she'd said those words, had they? She'd thought... maybe a sniper, or the equivalent to a knife in the back—not that she was happy about the prospect of that, but, she could have lived with it, given the stakes. She hadn't expected something that would have collateral damage. Dominique said that she, or rather Lockland, had tried to send in assassins first though, hadn't she? And that Xanatos, or his people, had killed them—people that might have been this Lockland guy's friends, she supposed... So, was what Dominique had done, the lengths her proxy had gone to, wrong? It wasn't right, _obviously_, but... Hadn't she asked herself before: How could she expect Dominique not to fight as hard as she could to prevent herself being turned into a laboratory experiment? Was her answer any different now? It sure as hell wasn't as _simple_—and the stakes were so much higher than that, Dominique was right about that. So right. Even discounting what Dominique had done for the human race on the whole, and Central America in particular, they were talking about the survival of an entire species here, weren't they? A species of which she could now call _herself_ a part. It wasn't just Dominique that could end up strapped to a table in a laboratory somewhere if this went wrong. She could end up the same way... and Una could, and Griff, and Leo, Obsidiana, Vercinix, this Mendela woman Una had talked about, and... there were children too. It was a war, really, that she'd signed up for without realizing it—or something with similar rules, at any rate. It was survival. How could she expect _anyone_ not to fight with stakes like that? And Lockland, Dominique, they'd at least tried to keep bystanders out of it, hadn't they? They'd done the research. She was a cop... She knew situations could... just go wrong sometimes. It was cold comfort, but she knew it was true...

Dominique was silent, letting Elisa have space and time to think. She owed her that, at the least.

Una too was silent, relieved that David Xanatos was dead apparently, but Dominique could tell she wasn't any more pleased with the needless loss of life than Elisa Maza must be.

"...He's dead though, right? Xanatos, I mean? ...You're safe?" Elisa asked, turning to meet Dominique's gaze again, her emotions feeling raw. Despite it all, she found it mattered a lot to her. Just that simple thing. That Dominique would be safe. Maybe she was being a fool to fall so hard for this woman so fast, but, yeah, despite it all, she found that's what had happened. She wanted Dominique to be safe. She wanted Una and the others to be safe, because they'd already come to matter to her too. Even Vercinix—she'd seen the way he'd smiled when Griff had gone over to him before. She was on the right side in this, she told herself. She had to be.

"I..." Dominique's voice caught at the depth of emotion in Elisa's eyes. It shook her to see it. "I- No... No, he's... He's not, Elisa. He... should have been, but... that's- It's the rest of the news I have. He's still alive, and I'm afraid that likely means we're... in much more danger than I'd first feared."

Now Una stood, reaching out to touch Dominique's forearm. "What are you saying exactly, Dominique?"

Dominique let out a breath. "When... When Lockland's assault failed, he sent Brice after David as he retreated from the city. That... They were torn _apart_, Una."

"That..." Una started, trying to consider the possibilities.

"Okay, wait." Elisa spoke up. "Just, hold on a minute here. I think you need to catch me up to speed on this. _Torn apart?_ What does that mean, exactly? Who was torn apart? And what's..." She sighed. "Can you just back up and explain more of this to me?" She asked. Whatever was going on here, one thing she was fast coming to a conclusion about was that she couldn't afford to just go along and trust this to Dominique anymore. She needed to understand these things, and she needed to be out there, making calls, seeing this stuff for herself.

Dominique looked at her, saw in Elisa's eyes no censure, no mistrust, only regret and some sorrow, which she could easily empathize with. Elisa... still believed in her, still wanted to protect her, she realized. She felt her heart lighten and melt even more for this woman as the realization of that reality sank in for her. "I... Yes. Yes, of course I can." She told her, moving closer to her, Una following along so they were gathered by the window.

Dominique let out a breath, took a moment to collect her thoughts, and started. "Alright, now, the who. Brice, Brice Abernathy, is my head of company security. He took a team—three, himself included—to confront David as he made his way to a heavily fortified stronghold he keeps upstate. Brice, he's..." She met Elisa's eyes again. "You have to know that what I did in Central America, the safety and prosperity that I've built there, it wasn't without its costs. It was a bitter struggle at times, and blood was often spilt. Brice was the man I entrusted much of that to. Drug cartels, human traffickers, warlords, and more he's dealt with on my orders. All those threats to the peace and well-being of my people's land are gone now, _never_ to return so long as I live. I..." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and told this secret too. It wasn't wise, she knew—maybe telling Elisa any of this wasn't wise—but she'd started, so she would finish. Elisa seemed to always be giving her trust, truth, and even faith, and Dominique found she very much wanted to honor that and return it in kind. "Years ago now, my company developed suits of advanced, high-tech battle armor, the like of which the public isn't yet aware exists. They can fly, come equipped with enough weaponry that they can destroy tanks. Three of them, piloted by highly trained and experienced pilots, are a match for a small army. Whatever David has protecting him, it tore through Brice and his people like a rabid animal—killed one of them, mutilated his body, put another in a coma, Brice himself is missing and presumed captured. That's what we're up against." Dominique told Elisa, holding nothing back.

Elisa pinched her eyes closed and rubbed her face, trying to acclimatize herself once more to a scenario that seemed to just get more and more out there, more and more convoluted, the more Dominique told her about it. Starting out, it had seemed all too much like a fairytale to her, she supposed. Una, Leo, and Griff certainly hadn't helped dissuade her of that feeling. Well, this, she supposed, was her wakeup call, clear and loud. "Okay, so... What could do something like that, then?" Elisa had to ask. "What are we up against here?"

"A fae." Una spoke gravely. "One of the fae could do that, and far worse."

"Like... Like Titania and Oberon, you mean? Like Odin?" Elisa asked.

"Exactly." Una confirmed.

"_Likely_, yes." Dominique amended. "It's not the only possibility though, you know that." Dominique told Una. "He could have a fae artifact, or it could be some sort of human magic—even the Grimorum."

"The... Grimorum?" Elisa was almost afraid to ask.

"The most powerful magical tome yet to be written, or so it's said." Una explained.

"Okay..." She _wanted_ to think Dominique and Una were having her on about some of this stuff. Trouble was, she knew they weren't. "So, what you're saying is that David Xanatos either has... has a god on his side, or a being powerful enough to be easily _mistaken_ for a god at any rate, or he's got some kind of magical... weapon of mass destruction?" She asked.

"...Essentially, yes." Dominique allowed, looking to Una. "And it might not even take as much as that, if you think it through. After all, you've done as much here, Una, haven't you? Spread your magic to amplify and complement the conventional technological security? It's not out of the realm of possibility that David's managed to duplicate your success, only using it for something _offensive_ instead of _defensive_."

Una closed her eyes. "You're... right of course."

Elisa closed her eyes too, and groaned a little. "This is giving me a headache." She told them.

"I... know the feeling." Dominique allowed, she smiled softly to her in sympathy.

Elisa looked up at her, saw the smile. It made her feel better, but brought back the echoes of turmoil from minutes before too. She breathed out, trying to just think critically about the problem at hand. "Right, so... I guess, what do we do about it? ..._Can_ we do anything about it?" She asked.

Dominique was grateful for the _we_ in that sentence, but it was too serious a topic to smile to her again like she wanted to. "We... take it one step at a time." Dominique told them. "We see to Robyn. I take you to your station to check in." This to Elisa. "My people are watching, gathering information. If this is a fae, it... matters greatly which one." This directed more to Una. "If... If worse comes to worse, I do have a fallback option." She told them. "You..." She looked to Elisa and took a moment to think about this, but she was committed to seeing things through with her, to finding out where the story between them would go—she knew she was. "You're clan to me now, Elisa. No matter what else comes, I want you to know that, if it is within my power, I will keep you safe through this just as I will protect all of my clan, all of my people. I promise it." She told her. Because it was very true. Even discounting the fact that they'd become lovers, she had brought Elisa Maza into this. She'd accepted Elisa's offer of sanctuary, she'd gone to her bed, invited her into her home, transformed her very race, and then disgraced all that with a janitor's unneeded death—she had to honor the responsibility she'd taken on in this, no matter if it ended up costing her pain in the end. It easily could, she knew, because what she hadn't quite confessed to Elisa in so many words was that she would see as many human janitors dead as she had to if it kept even _one_ of her clan alive. She wouldn't like doing it, but neither could she let herself hesitate if it became a necessity that she act. Could Elisa truly understand that? Forgive her for that? Would she even remain loyal to her, in the end?

Elisa quirked a hesitant smile at that. "Thanks, and... It goes both ways for me, okay?" She told her, looking from Dominique to Una. "I'll fight for you... all of you, if I have to." She looked back to Dominique. She would fight for her, and for her clan, because she was still convinced this was a good cause, and still convinced Dominique Destine was a good person—a good person with hard choices, yes, but... still a good person who deserved someone to fight for her. "You'll forgive me if I still hope this is as worse as it gets though, right?"

Dominique gave her a fond smile. "I think we could all use a little more hope in our lives..." She admitted.

* * *

Nervous, Robyn parked outside Dominique's home. She took a deep breath and looked at her hands on the steering wheel. "Right." She breathed softly to herself, unclenching her hands, opening the car door, and walking up to the security gate. She looked around her, but nothing seemed amiss. Just regular people, regular traffic, regular city noise... Was it her imagination though, or did the air smell a bit cleaner around here? _Huh._ She pressed the button.

"Hello? It's Robyn." She spoke.

"Hi Robyn." Dominique's voice came back right away. The gate started to open. "Um, come inside, won't you?" She asked, trying for playful, but not sure she hadn't just sounded awkward instead.

Robyn giggled a little. "Nervous to show me your place, finally?" She asked.

"You... could say that." Dominique allowed. "Listen, Robyn... There's... some things we need to talk about, okay?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm thinking... maybe I have a few of those things too, actually." She admitted, moving past nervous into the land where the people who were resigned to their fates lived.

"Well... I... guess we've both made each other curious then?" Dominique offered, wondering just what Robyn could possibly have to tell her. Somehow, something in Robyn's voice made her not quite sure she wanted to know.

"Yeah, guess so." Robyn allowed.

"...Go ahead and pull your car into the driveway. I'll be right down to meet you." Dominique told her, clicking the intercom off.

Robyn took another deep breath for courage and went back to her car to do as instructed.

* * *

Elisa watched, bemused, as Robyn and Dominique hugged in greeting. She and Dominique had come down to meet her, both of them having used Dominique's bracelet to become human again... Which _was_ actually proving to be a slightly strange experience for her. She didn't quite feel... like herself anymore. Not her former human self, or the gargoyle she'd been transformed into hours before. It struck her that, well... she'd probably never feel quite the same in her own skin as she had before, ever again. She still felt the light inside her like a living part of her for one thing, and... she couldn't quite put her finger on it, but there was also more to it.

"I'm... I'm glad you came, Robyn." Dominique told her as the hug parted.

"Yeah, me too, actually." Robyn replied, looking from Dominique to the woman who'd come out of the mansion with her. "So, hi there?" She offered.

"Hi." Elisa offered her a smile, her mind still a little lost in the feeling of being human again and in everything Dominique and Una had told her. She could really use some time to process a few things, she decided—she didn't know if she'd _get_ that time, of course, but she sure did feel like she could use it. The idea that David Xanatos was out there with some magical W.M.D. who liked to tear living people apart that he might point at them at any moment, the idea that Dominique had that Lockland guy still out there doing who knew what, and the question mark she was only now really considering of just what Dominique's _fallback_ option might be... Add to that that she was _sure_ there were still parts of this that she didn't know anything about yet and it was a lot to take. It had her feeling more on edge than she'd like... On the job, she'd gotten herself into some tight spots before, but she had a feeling she was probably _well past_ record-breaking territory about now.

"Robyn, this is..." Dominique trailed off, having caught movement in the periphery of her vision, her gaze tracking over to where Obsidiana, as a human woman whom Robyn would recognize as Adriana Estrada, was walking across the grass towards them.

Elisa looked over where Dominique was looking and was surprised to see a human woman walking towards them. It took her a beat to recognize her as the dark blue gargoyle she'd met before—Obsidiana. She hadn't noticed before, but Obsidiana had a bracelet on her wrist that was a twin to Dominique's. How many of those things _were_ there, she had to wonder?

Robyn smiled, happy to see her but sympathetic too. She also couldn't help noticing how beautiful she looked at the moment. She was only wearing a skirt and top, not even any shoes. With her hair loose in the wind, she looked... quite a sight, to tell the truth. Robyn went over to her. "Hey there, you." She greeted her, meeting her eyes.

Obsidiana gave her a tentative smile, more pleased to see her than she'd care to admit, but worried about the situation too. When she'd heard Robyn's car arrive, she'd thought just to go and observe from a distance, but, seeing her... No matter that she didn't want to have to face Dominique yet, she'd known she couldn't let Robyn go through this without her. Robyn had been a loyal friend to her, even when she herself hadn't been, and she wanted to be deserving of that. "Hello." She returned the greeting. Robyn moved in to hug her then, and, though she hadn't been quite ready for it, she found herself enjoying it anyway.

Dominique smiled seeing them, glad that at least Robyn seemed to be able to do something right where Obsidiana was concerned. She shouldn't have been surprised though, she supposed. After all, if Robyn had managed it with _her_... Elisa looked to her and offered a hand to her. Touched by the gesture, she took the offered hand gladly, the two of them walking over to join Robyn and Obsidiana.

"Um, hi again." Elisa greeted, letting go of Dominique's hand when Obsidiana's gaze fell on her.

Obsidiana tilted her head a little curiously, seeing Elisa's human form up close for the first time. She wondered again where this woman had come from, but, with Robyn here now, this wasn't the time to ask such things. "Hello..." She greeted nervously, looking down a moment, but then, gathering her courage, going over to offer Elisa a hug too.

Elisa was a little surprised, but she accepted the hug with grace, knowing by now that it was a fairly typical gesture for a gargoyle to make. Having become one herself now, in fact, she felt she somehow appreciated it more, or at least somewhat differently, than she would have before.

"I... apologize..." Obsidiana offered a little stiffly, trying for a smile, though it took effort and probably wasn't all that successful. The hug had taken effort too, but had come more naturally somehow. "When we met before, I... didn't mean to..." She shook her head. "I should never have involved you in such a thing, and... especially not when you were only just being introduced to us." She told her. "I hope you'll offer me the chance to make a better impression with you?"

Elisa smiled softly, touching her arm and, feeling it the right thing somehow, moving to touch her face as well. "Of course I will." She offered, quirking her lips in a little of a different sort of smile. "And it's alright." Elisa told her, finding herself empathizing with her. "You took a risk, showed your heart to someone else. That's a brave thing. You don't have to be ashamed of that." She explained, meaning it.

Obsidiana met Elisa's eyes, felt her touch, and was struck by how comforting it was. She smiled, feeling refreshingly encouraged. "Thank you." She told her simply, feeling an unasked for attraction that confused her. Suddenly uncertain, she stepped away and looked to Dominique, feeling ashamed of herself when she did. She looked away, frustrated all over again. Why—_how_, she wondered, could Dominique always manage to do that to her so very easily?

"Look, maybe we should go inside? Sit and talk?" Dominique offered, looking to Robyn as she said this.

Robyn nodded. "Yeah, maybe so." She agreed, looking between Adriana and Dominique, discouraged by the friction between them that seemed as bad as it had ever been—like they'd just let themselves get frozen that way since the last time she'd seen them together. How did two people who clearly cared as much as they both cared let that happen, she wondered? She wished she could take Adriana off somewhere to talk, just the two of them. Later though... Well, assuming this all didn't end up blowing up in her face, she supposed.

"I'm Elisa, by the way." Elisa offered Robyn as they walked towards the house. "Elisa Maza."

"Robyn Correy. Good to meet you." She returned the introduction with an interested smile. She _could_ see it, she considered—Elisa and Dominique as a couple? Even in the short glimpse of time she'd had to see them together, she could tell that something just seemed to fit there. Part of her was a mite envious, actually. She glanced to Dominique then, and saw for certain she was apt to confess all things gargoyle to her soon—she knew her more than well enough by now to read her facial expressions like a book... Usually anyway. She just hoped she knew her well enough for the bet she was placing on her good graces right about now. There _was_ still time to change her mind and backpedal she supposed... As they went inside, Robyn thought wistfully of the half-eaten sandwich and the remaining orange she'd left in her car. She'd managed to drink her mocha and eat one of the oranges and half the sandwich on her way here, but she was still hungry... Doing this on a full stomach really would have been better. She should have stopped and taken the time. Hindsight though—what could you do?

Entering the house, Robyn stopped and stared, looking up and around her at the place.

"Makes and impression, I know." Elisa spoke beside her.

Robyn shook her head. "You're right about that." She had to agree. She gathered her courage and looked over to Dominique. Should she just say it? _I know, alright—you're a gargoyle._ It's what she might've said, but she didn't.

"Come on. Over this way." Dominique offered.

"Oh, right." Robyn got her focus back, following along over to a sitting area off to the corner.

She sat down and Adriana sat beside her, reaching over and taking her hand in hers. Elisa and Dominique sat across from them. Robyn looked over to her, and Adriana met her eyes in an offer of support. She was grateful for it, because she knew what was coming.

"Robyn..." Dominique started, faltering inside over how to say this.

Robyn sighed. "You... You don't have to." She finally got up the courage to say. "I... I already know, alright?" She spoke to Dominique.

"...Know what, exactly?" Dominique asked, caught off guard and confused. She looked to Obsidiana, then back to Robyn.

Robyn let out a breath. "That... you're a gargoyle. I've, um, I've... actually known all along, if you want the truth." She admitted, squirming inside, though trying her level best not to let it show through.

Dominique's eyes widened and Adriana withdrew her hand.

"...What...? _How_? You..." Dominique stumbled, her questions trailing off into naught.

Robyn bowed her head. "My... My family. You've, um... My surname, it's not always been..." She looked up apprehensively to meet Dominique's quickly closing off expression. "I was born Robyn... Canmore." She admitted.

Dominique's eyes widened yet again at that. "_Hunter_..." She breathed the word.

* * *

( to be continued )

and leave a comment/review if you want to, I'd love to hear from you


	32. Elaine Canmore's Legacy

**Daylight... Part 10: Elaine Canmore's Legacy**

* * *

"...Traditionally, I suppose, yeah." Robyn answered. "But that's not me, I... I really am on your side, Dominique. I am your friend. I am. I promise I am. It... may not have started out quite that way, but-"

"Stop!" Dominique demanded. "Just... stop." She asked, her voice having gone soft. She stood and walked away a few paces, needing some space. This was just... All this time, Robyn had been... It was something of a grand _joke_, she supposed, it really was...

Robyn stood too. "But even then, it wasn't—it was never _like_ that. I swear." She pressed on, needing to make Dominique _understand_.

Dominique turned and looked at her, just looked at her... She could see it now. She hadn't before. _Elaine_... Robyn was... Elaine Canmore's daughter... And she'd _lied_ to her, all this time... She closed her eyes and reminded herself that... this was Robyn. She was still her Robyn—still her friend—and she was _confessing_ to this. Her mother's courage shining through, she supposed. "What... was it like then?" Dominique asked, feeling vulnerable and exposed in a way she couldn't quite ever remember feeling before. Robyn deserved to be heard out though—deserved that and a good deal more from her—so she could face this.

Robyn let out a breath, relieved. "We wanted to know." Robyn explained. "My... My brothers and me. You... You killed our da, but... I mean, and our mum was gone. We didn't know how. Jason, he- But, there you were, a champion of human rights, protector of the downtrodden. Didn't seem like you were much of a Demon after all, you know? And... well, none of us were willing to go after you, not unless we did know that you really were... You know, the creature of pure evil our ancestors... our da, that he made you out to be." She met Dominique's eyes quietly a long moment. "...It didn't take me long to figure out you weren't. You... And you were, are- Besides my brothers, I guess, you're the first real friend I've ever had. So, I guess I thought I'd just stick around."

"...And... these... brothers of yours?" Dominique found herself asking, absurdly feeling like she might cry. In that moment, you see, she really did realize that Robyn mattered a great deal to her... even more than she'd admitted to herself up to this point. And she was Elaine's _daughter_—if there'd been any doubt about that fact left, that she'd just confessed to having two brothers confirmed it beyond doubt.

Robyn sighed. "Less convinced of your goodness than I, I'll admit. But they don't _know_ you, and I do. Which is... another reason I stuck around, I suppose. John's fine mostly, but Jason, well, you know, he's the eldest. He knew da the best. I... don't think he really wants to think that da could have been on the wrong side of things, you know? Still and all, he's not about to do anything until he's got his proof of guilt, and since there's really not any, I don't see there being a problem on that front." She quirked a smile. "He's got a lady he's fallen for even, so I expect that helps matters as well."

Dominique ran a hand over her face, trying to reconcile this. Oh, not factually. This... actually made a kind of sense that way. Maybe it was, at least partly, why she'd found it so easy to trust and befriend Robyn in the first place. There was even an almost eerie symmetry to it all, really. Emotionally, though...? She went to sit down next to Elisa again, who'd been watching all of this, looking like she'd been caught flatfooted.

Robyn looked after her, then looked over to find Adriana behind her, having stood up as well at some point apparently. She was just looking at her, open suspicion in her gaze. "I-" Adriana started to say, but... she just turned and walked away. Robyn watched her go and her heart sank.

Dominique looked up and saw Obsidiana go. _Fantastic_, she thought. "Give her some time." She told Robyn.

Elisa stood then. "I'll... um, I think I should probably give you two some space too?" She ventured, reaching out to touch Dominique's hand, kindness and understanding in her eyes.

Dominique looked to her, feeling bolstered and understood. "I... maybe so." She admitted, smiling to her.

Elisa moved in and kissed her softly for a long moment then, before turning to leave. Dominique stood there a moment, blankly watching her go, feeling a little dazed, and not unpleasantly so. Her lips still felt the echoes of their kiss. It really was remarkable, she thought to herself, how much Elisa could make her feel with such apparently almost negligent ease...

Robyn looked after Elisa too, then turned back to Dominique. She saw the dazed expression, and a fond smile came to her lips. Dominique turned to her then and met her eyes. "I..." But the answering quirk of a returned fond smile on Dominique's lips stopped whatever she'd been about to say.

"...Your mother..." Dominique began to venture. "Her name was Elaine, wasn't it?" She asked softly.

Robyn's knees felt a bit weak at hearing that name, and she sat down across from Dominique again. "I- Yes... it was." She admitted, feeling her stomach drop. "How..."

"I knew her, actually." Dominique confessed, giving her something of a sad smile in the remembering. "I... think you actually do take after her... Far more than you know, I suspect." She admitted.

"I... What?" Robyn asked in a small voice, her heart in her throat. Where was this... _Where was this coming from?_

Dominique nodded. "She... came to me one night, all those years ago... when you must have been only a young girl."

"I... Dominique, you can't... please tell me you didn't...?" Robyn found herself asking, her childhood fears getting the better of her.

Hurt, Dominique shook her head. "No... No, she didn't come to hunt me, and I... I never harmed her Robyn, not in the least. I swear..." That sad smile again. "Quite the opposite—you might even say she was my friend... As I told you, the two of you have a lot in common, as it turns out."

Robyn swallowed, her heart beating faster and her chest feeling tight. "Tell me...?" She found herself asking in that same small voice. She'd... She'd given up on it really, after all these years. Finding out? She'd imagined so many things. That her mum had just gotten sick of da and his ways and left, that she'd hit her head and had amnesia like on a soap opera, or she'd... been kidnapped by a handsome gypsy king or something. The obvious thing was that she'd died or been killed somehow of course. Jason especially thought it had been Dominique to—that the Demon had taken _both_ of their parents... She supposed she was about to find out at last though, wasn't she?

Dominique smiled just a little at that, seeing in her eyes that Robyn hadn't lost faith in her after all. "She... wanted peace between us. Between myself and her—your—family... She found me. She saw me one night. I'd... come across a human child, you see... a young boy. He'd fallen into a river, running from some older boys. I'd been perched on a church above. I remember, I'd let my thoughts drift. I heard the small shouts from below, and looked down and saw the scene play out. I saw it happen. Saw the boy being chased. It reminded me of... of a similar scene from my past, long, long ago... I saw him stubble, fall over. The current was strong... I glided down and saved him, pulled him out and sat him down on the shore." She smiled fondly at the memory. "The boys who'd been chasing him certainly got a fright that night. I imagine I must have made quite the striking vision to them, a winged demon descending down from above them—from the roof one of their churches, no less." She remembered. "The boy was stunned and stammered his thanks to me. I sent him on his way home and I went on mine. I was hungry, I recall. Your... Your father, he'd burned me out of my refuge two nights past, but I was in that town for a reason. I... was stubborn. I stayed. I didn't want to run." She'd been looking for the Grimorum Arcanorum, she remembered. Thinking that it could help her with so many things. A fool's hope, she now supposed. "I... found a stray dog that night and cooked it to eat in a clearing a ways downriver. I... I've always liked dogs... but..." She sighed. Hunger could make you do many things, she'd found. "It was what it was. Your mother found me after the meat was skinned and cooking. She'd seen me from a nearby bridge, it seemed. She'd taken cover, apparently. Not that it would have mattered. I doubt I would have noticed her in any case."

Robyn smiled a sad smile to herself. "Even then, you were doing good deeds, it seems." She said softly. "...My father was a disgrace. I've always... I've always thought he could be." She admitted.

"...Truly." Dominique admitted.

Robyn looked up and met her eyes again. "Why... do I get the feeling I'm not going to like how this story ends?" She asked softly.

"...Because you won't. You very much won't. I'm sorry." Dominique told her in all sincerity.

"Get on with it then." Robyn sighed.

Dominique considered a moment. "I want you to..." She looked down, then met Robyn's eyes again. "You deserve to know: I had reasons, those I loved taken from me before their time. I thought it justified... I don't know if it did or not, really—I don't know that it _matters_ whether it was justified or not, but... Your family's vendetta against me, it's not always been without cause. I'm... or, at least I'd hope that I'm... simply not the same person any longer."

Robyn, with some effort, smiled to her. "I believe you."

"...Good. Well, as long as you... know that." Dominique said, looking down at her hands again and remembering them covered in blood. The blood of humans, the blood of that dog... the blood of Robyn's father...

"Tell me?" Robyn asked.

Dominique looked up, meeting her eyes, for a moment not remembering what it was Robyn was asking her for. "I... Right." She let out a breath. "Elaine, your mother... She told me she'd seen what I'd done for that boy. She was nervous of me still, of course, but..." Dominique smiled fondly. "I guess you get your bravery, your forthright honesty, from her as well, don't you?"

Robyn smiled to herself at that, even as she felt her heart breaking all over again for the mother that was lost to her.

"She asked me..." Dominique went on. "She asked me why. Why I'd saved the boy. I looked at her. Saw... Saw you in her eyes, I suppose. So I told her, and we talked... We talked long into the night. I was mistrustful, but..." She sighed. "She left, and I left soon after. I followed after her, at a distance."

"Why?" Robyn asked.

"I... wanted to know, I suppose. I suspected she might try to use the... the fledgling friendship we'd forged—use it to lure me into her husband's snare. She... I'd thought that her seeing me, finding me that night, was happenstance, and standing there after she left me, I'd found myself wondering if she could have been playing me false. I... didn't like the not knowing, so I followed her. I followed her to her home, _your_ home... I saw her go inside... I imagine she checked on you and your brothers, saw you were sleeping safe. Then, I saw her come back outside again, walk up a stairwell on the side of the home."

"Da's workshop." Robyn recalled stilly. Her da had a room on the second floor of their house back then where he kept the... family's legacy. She remembered watching him training up Jason there sometimes.

"Yes, I imagine so." Dominique allowed. "She... went inside. I waited, not willing to risk going in closer to attempt to listen in. I remember I felt foolish at that point, because how could I find out? How would I know what they talked of? ...I was about to go when I heard raised voices, a shout, heard your mother cry out. I turned back... I watched as your father... carried your mother's dead body from his house..."

Robyn broke out in a startled sob at that.

Her heart felt tight in her chest. It physically _hurt_, in fact...

She breathed through it though, and... she looked down, after the shock had partly worn off, and saw Dominique kneeling at her feet, reaching up tentatively to her. Without thinking, Robyn sank to the floor with her and sought refuge in her arms, letting herself cry.

Several long minutes later, Dominique found herself sitting Robyn down beside her on the sofa. "What... What happened next then?" Robyn asked, at length.

Dominique shook her head and sighed. "Are you sure you want to hear this now?"

"I need to know." Robyn told her stubbornly.

Dominique let out a breath. "The... sun was nearly up. I could not always endure the days without stone sleep as I can now. When I saw... When I saw him leave, with your mother. I would have slain him then but for that, I think." She admitted. "So I left, and I confronted him the next day."

"He... Wait, I remember. He came home that day with cuts and gashes, limping and with a broken arm and he told us he'd almost killed you." Robyn looked at her in some astonishment. "We... He had us packed up and headed off come the morning. Said... it wasn't safe, not until he'd healed himself up?"

Dominique nodded. "I was... I let my anger, my fury get the better of me that night—let _him_ get the better of me." She smiled to herself wryly. "The funny thing is that if he'd come back to the scene of our struggle an hour later, followed the blood trail, he'd have found me face down in the woods, bleeding to death."

"To... death?" Robyn asked. "Wait..."

Dominique regretted her words. She shouldn't have said them, but she had to explain, didn't she? "I... I can trust you, can't I, Robyn? I... have your word that I can trust you?" She asked.

"I... yes, of course, I- You... You have my word. Always." She told her. Now more than ever, she considered—if this was true, what Dominique was saying. And it _was_ true, she... knew it was. Between her da and Dominique, it was easy for her to decide who to trust. Not that it would be so easy for Jason, or even John, she knew...

Dominique nodded. "I _can_ die, Robyn, it just... never takes for very long." She admitted.

"I... How...?" Robyn took in a breath. "No, you know what? Tell me later. For now, just... what happened next? With my da?"

Dominique let out a breath. "When I... recovered, I went looking for him, of course determined to be smarter about it this time, but... I wanted him dead, Robyn. For Elaine, yes, certainly, but... at the same time, I was also simply tired of it, _sickened_ of it... Of being hunted? Of the sorrow, the tragedy of it all? This... just felt like the last, the very last straw... I wanted it to stop with him. I wanted... well, I wanted a better life for you, for your brothers too. I... I felt I owed her that. I'm... Sorry if it didn't turn out quite that way somehow." She admitted, thinking of her own son and how she so badly wished, even now, that she'd been able to give him a better, _longer_, life. "I... I tracked him down. It took me months, but I found him, and I... ended it." She confessed. "I... I watched over you, you and your brothers, for a time. I saw you taken in by Elaine's sister. I burned your father's store of history and weapons, and I watched, and I saw no signs that Rachel knew anything of your father's family legacy. So I left, believing I'd fulfilled my duty to her, ended the hunts once and for all. How... How did you find your way back to it, if I can ask?"

"Da... He had a second cache, Jason had the map to it. Aunt Rachel, she... died of a sickness a few years after we went to live with her, it turned out... Jason, he kept us together though. Had it in his mind to honor da, avenge him if we could." Robyn explained, looking down at her hands.

"That... is an old tale indeed then." Dominique observed, thinking about how much of her own actions had been undertaken with similar reasoning, similar justifications. Vengeance—for her clan, for her kind, for her husband, for her son... How much did it drive her, even now? Some days, she truly didn't know anymore.

Robyn looked to her, wiped a last tear from her eye. "Maybe it's time for something new, then?" She asked.

Dominique smiled, her heart feeling lighter... much lighter, in fact. An old weight, now lifted. "I'd like that." She admitted, moving to hug her friend.

Robyn hugged Dominique back, gratefully. She'd made the right choice, she realized to herself. She had... just like her mum, it turned out. She smiled a little to herself, thinking of that, even as she still felt the sadness and felt too a new bitterness settle in her heart over what her da had done...

* * *

Jericho Lockland knelt before a door to pick a lock. In his line of work, that you'd end up bending a knee to this sort of thing was inevitable. The door he found himself kneeling in front of today belonged to Natsilane Blackfeather—_Nick_, most called him presently, it seemed. Nick was ostensibly David Xanatos's live-in personal assistant. He had it fairly well substantiated by this point that he and David were a bit more than that though. Not that he was one to judge. What a man did in his own bedchambers was his own business, to his opinion—except, of course, when it wasn't.

When one of his best and only friends was missing and quite possibly dead was sure and certain one such exception.

The lock clicked and the door swung silently forward a few inches.

Jericho stood and walked in, taking an assessing look around. Nick maintained this place in addition to his, now former, residence at the Eyrie Building. Jericho had vetted Nick Blackfeather thoroughly previous to this, of course, but the fact that he'd been seen sticking close to Xanatos throughout all this was a red flag if ever he'd seen one. And then there was that other thing.

Dominique's prediction had bared out. His people had called him on the way here and told him they had not one Goddamned clue _what_ had done that to the armor recovered from Brice's people. So... magic it was to be then.

Blackfeather was an expat from Queen Florence Inland in British Columbia, native-born to a tribe called the Haida peoples. According to the file he'd gathered on the man, he'd once been meant to be a medicine man to his people. So, there it was: The magic.

He'd called Dominique back to tell her when he'd found the connection, but she hadn't been there. Leon Travers had picked up instead. Stoic bloke, that one, but he was one of Dominique's inner circle and he had permission from her to talk freely with him, so he'd left his message and come here.

He didn't know what he was looking for, exactly. Something to go on, he supposed—anything, really. He was spinning his wheels otherwise. Tad and his people were watching Xanadu, he had people with Cole who'd call him as soon as she came out of her coma, and he knew well enough by now that he'd get results faster from his science team if he let them be. He was still hoping they'd get back to him and tell him it was all a mistake, or at least get back to him with something he could use to put up a proper fight against this Blackfeather bloke, or whatever it was they were facing.

He wanted to go and bust some heads until someone coughed up Brice, or Brice's body at least. His folks would get to properly bury their son at the bare minimum, of that he was damn well going to make very sure.

So he moved around the room, appraising everything carefully, looking for that something he needed. At first pass, the living area seemed nondescript enough. He saw the man's tribal influences here and there, and he paid close attention to those sorts of objects, touching a few to see if he got... hell, some kind of spark or something? As if magic were bloody static electricity... He _had_ seen something in that armor though, hadn't he? Maybe he'd see the same sort of... unnatural bent in something else touched by the stuff?

No luck so far.

He was just heading towards the bedroom when he heard something over the hum of the air circulation system.

He turned and, sure enough, there was Jason Langston pointing a handgun equipped with a silencer at him, gaze fixed, hand steady. Looking at him, Jericho did not doubt that this was a man who'd pull that trigger if he had to.

"I... suppose this doesn't look too good for me, does it?" Jericho ventured. He must have triggered some kind of alarm, he figured. Langston was Xanatos's head of security, so it'd make sense he'd get the alert. Only thing was, if that were so... then how exactly'd he get here this fast? No, something else was going on here. Of course, he wasn't exactly in a position to ask questions about it at the moment, was he?

"That all depends." Jason told him, his senses on high alert. If what John had told him about this man were true, he had to be very careful doing this, or he'd end up very dead.

"Right. On what exactly?" Jericho ventured. Keep him talking—for now, that's all he could hope to do. Langston wanted something, he could see that now. All he had to do was play this nice and smart and careful-like... Wait for his moment.

"On what you can tell me about Dominique Destine and what her plans are." Jason expounded.

"Ah." Was all Jericho managed to say before Jason Langston fired his gun.

* * *

( to be continued )

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